From the Chaos Desk of Rock King Bobby D

📍 www.rockingbobbyd.com

Hey Chaos Crew,

This one’s personal.

Because today, I’m not writing to perform.

I’m writing like I’m sitting across from you — messy, cracked, and still figuring out how to hold this day in my hands.

Mother’s Day hits different when you’ve lost the person who held the storm back for you.

And my mom, Dottie?

She was the storm.

And the shelter.

She was soft-spoken but steel-spined.

The kind of woman who walked away from a man like my father — sharp-voiced, uniformed, fists like landmines — and took me with her.

No warning. No exit music.

Just survival on the fly.

She raised me and my brothers in the cracks.

She worked, she fought, and she endured things I still can’t fully understand.

And when ALS came for her, it came fast.

And I wasn’t there.

That’s a truth I still carry — one of the many things grief doesn’t let you put down easily.

But if she taught me anything, it’s this:

You don’t get to choose how the story starts.

But you damn sure get to choose how loud you write the rest.

So today, if you’re feeling wrecked, grateful, conflicted, or completely numb —

Know that I get it.

Know that you’re not alone.

Know that you’re allowed to carry this day however you need to.

🎧 Mindful Mayhem: 3 Real-World Reminders This Mother’s Day

1. Honor the impact, not the perfection.

Even if your story was messy, it mattered. So did theirs.

2. You can love someone and still have scars from them.

That duality doesn’t make you broken. It makes you human.

3. If you became the parent you needed — that’s hero work.

You did what had to be done. That counts.

⚡ Two Quotes That Carried Me Today:

“Some of us were raised by mothers. Some of us were raised by survival. And some of us were raised by both.”

“The strongest people I know were taught by absence how to love better.”

🤘 Question of the Week:

What part of you had to grow up too fast — and how do you honor that now?

🎤 Weekly Truth Bomb:

Whether you’re calling your mom, grieving her, angry at her, being her, or surviving without her —

This day belongs to you too.

And if today is hard?

You’re still worthy of rest. Of softness. Of celebration.

However the hell you show up.

With you in the fire and the fallout,

— Bobby D

Loud Son. Quiet Mourner. Still Healing.

The Most Overrated, Underwhelming Radio Host of All Time