A Quote by Shannon Briggs

My mother died on my birthday. — © Shannon Briggs
My mother died on my birthday.
My mother Molly had a nervous breakdown after my father Chic died, aged 50. He was a very generous man who ran a shop in Dundee giving a lot of people tick. When he died, a lot of people hadn't paid their bills, so he died with a lot of debt. After he died, my mother went doolally.
I've died so many times. I'm 65. On my 40th birthday, my girlfriend gave me a reel with ways I had died, whether it was by knife, or electrocution or drowning or being thrown off a building or whatever it might have been. I've died a lot of times!
I was one of six children, brought up by my mother in Swindon after my father died. We had all we needed - food on the table, clothes to wear. When I wanted a drum kit, my mother got me one. When I got into playing guitar, I came down one Christmas or birthday and there was a guitar for me. It amazes me how Mum managed to do it.
In June 1968, five days before my mother's forty -sixth birthday, the world fell apart again. Sirhan Sirhan shot Bobby Kennedy, who died the next day. Why were people shooting all the Kennedys? Had the country gone mad?
My mother was a dramatic and egocentric person, and she died before my father, who died of Alzheimer's disease. But I'd often thought, God, we were so lucky that was the order in which they died because she would have felt put upon.
I have a strong memory of the day I was told that my father had a weak heart and that he had to go to the hospital. He died when I was nine years old on the same day that Franklin Roosevelt died; it was his 45th birthday.
I didn't really like my birthday as a kid. My mother used to say, "Sometimes we'd have a birthday party and you would just wander off." But she said it was just my way in the world. It wasn't anything that I was truly interested in.
I barely saw my mother, and the mom I saw was often angry and unhappy. The mother I grew up with is not the mother I know now. It's not the mother she became after my father died, and that's been the greatest prize of my life.
In December 1988, my mother died of lung cancer. I died too. I couldn't function.
One of the few times I saw my mother cry was when Lennon died, and the other time was when Elvis died.
My mother had a life-altering stroke when I was nineteen and she died when I was twenty-three. I'm now older than my mother when she died and my relationship with her has really changed over these many years. I continue to stay interested in her and I know her differently now. Losing my mother, losing dear friends, is now part of the fabric of my being alive. And the fabric keeps changing, which is interesting.
My - both my sisters died with pancreatic cancer. My brother died with pancreatic cancer. My daddy died of pancreatic cancer. My mother died with breast cancer.
My mother died when I was 12, and right after, my dad died in a car crash. I was 15 and had no family. The court sent me to live with my uncle and aunt in Missouri.
In 1971, my mother died of cancer and within a year my first husband Alec Ross died, also from cancer.
We were all born on days when too many people died in terrible ways, but you still have to call it a birthday.
A Dad gives hope When life is low A Dad's a place Where you can go A Dad is honest A Dad is true A Dad is precious My DAD is You Happy Birthday to YOU Happy Birthday to YOU Happy Birthday , Happy Birthday Happy Birthday to YOU
This site uses cookies to ensure you get the best experience. More info...
Got it!