Gloria Steinem's Grisly Dedication

Abortion fanatics are swooning and squeeing over the book dedication in Gloria Steinem's latest book, My Life on the Road.

The dedication in @GloriaSteinem’s new book is incredibly moving: https://t.co/yMLyPbgFaW @Buzzfeed pic.twitter.com/nqHRNInvTT

— NARAL (@NARAL) November 1, 2015

"Gloria Steinem's dedication page for her new book had me in tears." Charles Clymer @cmclymer
"Teared up at the dedication of Gloria Steinem's new book." Caitlin Frazier @caitlinfrazier
"The first book dedication that almost made me cry." Neta Alexander @netalexander

Wow, it's unanimous! It makes me want to weep, also. But not in gratitude. More like the hot anguished tears of a hundred million stars. An entire galaxy of stars, extinguished.

As far as book dedications go, it's not quite as heinous as those by Bill Ayers. He dedicated Prarie Fire to Sirhan Sirhan. Or Saul Alinsky. He dedicated Rules For Radicals to Lucifer. But Steinem's dedication is pretty gross.

Many people dedicate their books to their spouses. Lots of people dedicate books to their children. Steinem is childless, so that dedication would be impossible. Not only does she lack a child to honor with a book dedication, she lacks a blood heir. When she dies, her estate might as well go to the government. She may have succeeded at being a feminist, but she failed at being a woman. She was put on this earth to be fruitful, and her fruit is bitter. Every single cell in her body had but one directive: copy itself, and pass on its genes.

I wonder what her child would have accomplished? Maybe her child would have written a book, or solved a big problem, or just had an unremarkable life. Her child was never given that chance, because Steinem's ambition was more important than the inconvenient life she mothered.

Steinem's unborn child didn't merit mention in her book, but Steinem's book will one day fade to dust and be forgotten. Yet somewhere in the celestial cosmos, in a form known only to the creative energy, is a book of life. The book of life will endure forever, and remember the tiny stolen soul.

When my mother went into hospice and eventually passed away, she was surrounded by her children and grandchildren. Who will attend Steinem's final lonely hours? Her literary agent?