Letters to the Editors

Tribute sparks memories of mother

© St. Petersburg Times, published May 20, 2001

Last Sunday in Floridian, St. Petersburg Times sports columnist Gary Shelton wrote a story called "Her Danny Boy at last," about his mother, Evelyn Shelton, who died of cancer when he was a child.

Shelton wrote about the visit he made to her gravesite to say a prayer and sing his mother's favorite song.

After the article appeared, he received dozens of calls and letters, many from people who experienced the loss of a parent at a young age. Here, with the authors' permission, are excerpts from some of the letters.
-- MIKE WILSON, Floridian editor

I arrived home to your article after returning from Pittsburgh, where my husband and I had traveled to visit my mother's gravesite. She passed away on May 15, 2000, and I wanted to honor her by planting flowers at her grave.

My mother suffered from liver cancer for over 11/2 years. I was with her, as were my father and sister, when she passed away at home as she wished. I want you to know that your column gave me some comfort after what was and is still a hard time for me.

Coming home to your article allowed me to cry -- not just for me, but for her and for you and for all of the other people who have lost a loved one, no matter how old or young. And crying is a good thing. I used to think it was a sign of weakness, but have learned just the opposite.

I was almost 35 years old when my mother died, but I still feel like her baby. I do remember to hug my children a little harder, and I really understand what it means to appreciate life to its fullest.

I am sorry that we both have pain, but I also realize how lucky we are to have had mothers who truly loved us and whose memories are fresh within our hearts -- no matter the time that has passed. Not everyone is that lucky.
Susan Rasmussen
Largo

As a Floridian transplanted to Indiana, I read the Times online. Gary Shelton's story brought me to tears. My thoughts went to my own mother, who passed away on May 12, 1987. That is also the date when I wounded in Vietnam in 1969. So Gary, thank you very much for bringing my mom back to me. Her favorite song was Danny Boy too.
-- Rich "Doc" Edwards
Lagrange, Ind.

My late mom's favorite song was That's an Irish Lullaby, the only song she ever put on tape, "Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral." She had no singing voice at all, but it was the sweetest sound I ever heard. I'm saving the story to reread when I get to thinking of my mom.
-- Jim McElroy
Palm Harbor

For all the little boys of the world who lost their mothers, thank you for your heart-rending story about your mother, Evie. I lost my mother, Rose, about 10 days before your mother died. I was only 3 1/2 years old.

We, and others like us, will never really know what life would have been like if our mothers would have lived. And no matter how hard we try to recapture the essence of our mothers' beings, it always seems to fall short of the real thing.

I myself am a Catholic convert from secular Judaism who fervently hopes that I will meet my beloved mother "on the other side." I am certain, as you are, that my mother hears me and that she is praying for me in heaven.
Howard Glicksman, M.D.
Spring Hill

The story was sad and moving and yet so full of love. I hope you felt comforted by the trip to your mother's gravesite.

I want to tell you about some other sounds and music, and why your story meant so much to me. When I was 25 and my sister Ann was 19, our parents were killed in an automobile accident. Motherless children come in many ages, and to be instantly both motherless and fatherless has permeated the rest of our lives. They were 55 and 53, and how I identify with outliving a parent. Like your mother, our parents were loving and sweet and kind, so there was no bitterness to be dealt with, thank heavens.

About 10 years ago at Christmas, my sister gave me a decorated box. Inside I found a package of Kleenex and a cassette tape and a note telling me it was okay to go off by myself and listen and cry if I wished. The tape, made from an old reel-to-reel tape, caught us opening our packages and having Christmas dinner in 1956! Nothing at all special, but the power of the ordinary, with Brigadoon on as background, was just extraordinary. I am going to send your column to Ann, with the same admonition she gave me, that it might make her cry. But I know she will really appreciate it.

With the affection shared by parentless people,
-- Mary Kumpe
Sarasota

What a beautiful article! I am 48 years old, born in Peoria, Ill. We moved to Tampa 11 years ago, but Peoria will always be home. It is where my father is buried.

My father, Charles Schlink, died of a heart attack on November 17, 1956, 12 days after his 37th birthday. I was 3 years old. I still think of him every day. If someone asked me the person in my life who had the most influence on me, I would not hesitate to say it was my father, and I never knew him. For as long as I can remember I wanted to live longer than my father did. Since my 37th birthday I feel I have been on borrowed time.

Forty-five years ago our society did not allow us to grieve. My mother was 35 and had three young children. She was told to get on with her life. We did not talk about Dad because it was too painful for Mother. If I'll Be Home For Christmas was played on the radio at Christmastime we all ran to change the station because we were afraid it would make Mother sad.

I have many beautiful letters that were written to Mother 45 years ago when my Dad died. I am sure that at the time the individuals wrote these letters they did not realize what an impact their thoughts would have on my life.
-- Barbara Schlink Gura
Valrico

I have now read your Mother's Day article three times and each time ended up crying. My mother died of colon cancer last fall at the too-early age of 74.

Last Mother's Day we knew would be the last we would spend with each other. I'm 47, and you are never too old to feel like a motherless child. We spent the summer doing last things -- last movie, last visit to my house from hospice.

My mother loved music and used to go to nursing homes to play the piano and sing with the residents. When I used to sing the first few lines of Danny Boy (she's also Irish), she would say, "I won't play that. It's too sad.' I really didn't relate to her feelings . . . until now.
-- John Dubrule
St. Pete Beach

Your moving story reminded me of my own situation.

My father was killed in the closing days of World War II when I was only 9 months old. He was a German soldier serving in Yugoslavia. I grew up in the United States, always wondering what it might have been like to know my father and feeling guilty that he was a German soldier. In the last 10 years or so I have been trying to find out more about the location of my father's remains.

Several years ago I learned the exact location of the battle in which he was killed. Currently I am corresponding with the Croatian Catholic Church about the possibility that his grave might, through some miracle, have been discovered after the war and might be identified.

I'm hoping to visit the site and in some way bring closure to my mother's life story. She never remarried after bringing her two sons to America. She worked hard to provide for us, and she is always in my thoughts.

When my mother died we buried her in Virginia, where she had lived for a time and which often reminded her of her homeland. I regret that, because of the distance, I am only an infrequent visitor to her grave. When my quest for my father's grave is satisfied, I will be able to return to my mother's grave and somehow bring their two separate journeys together at last, if only symbolically.
-- Gerd Hemminger
Clearwater

I was fortunate to have had my mother with me for 72 years. She passed away in January at age 90. My sister noted that this is the first year that we haven't had a card to give her, and we mourn the loss.

Many of us can't begin to know or understand what it means to not have a mother. My sisters and I were reared during the Depression and early stages of World War II and remember well the sacrifices she made on our behalf. We came first. She did without. Our dad was an alcoholic and caused the family to suffer, but the fact remains, we did have a mom.
-- Richard P. Shinn, D.V.M.
South Pasadena

Your story reminded me of my dear mother, who also was of Irish heritage, and who died in an auto accident 46 years ago. I shall treasure and keep your inspiring story to read every Mother's Day. I think the purchase of a headstone that will be inscribed with those final two verses of Danny Boy will be a perfect tribute to your mother.
Warren Anderson
Brooksville

Your article really hit home with me. It was such a fine tribute to your mother. One reason that I enjoyed it so much was that my mother died when I was 5 years old, and she was only 35. That was in 1928. She left five children, and I was the youngest. Her grave went without a monument until 1947, when I and my siblings put one up for her. You will find that it will be one of the most rewarding things you ever do when you install one at your mother's gravesite. I'm sure your thoughts have been similar to mine in that your mother, although gone, has watched over you all these years and will always be with you. She would be mighty proud of all of your accomplishments, I'm sure.
-- George B. Hill
Clearwater

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