The Healing Journey

May 11, 2025

‘We Needed to Hear That Story About My Mom’

By Tom Matthews

When my mother died, I was sad, confused, and even a bit angry.

Sad for the obvious reason: My mom was gone, and she wasn’t coming back. Confused because I wasn’t sure what the right reaction should be. Would she want me to keep a stiff upper lip and go about my business, or should I take time to truly mourn her? And a bit angry because I wish she had fought harder to overcome her illness. I’m especially not proud of that last one.

While I was sorting through these emotions, I had the good fortune of an unanticipated happening. Other people helped me heal. How did this happen? They shared stories about my mother Mary Ann with me, some of which revealed information about her I didn’t know, and others that reminded me what an incredibly unique and caring person she was.

My mom was a longtime English teacher at St. Joseph High School, and while I knew she was well-liked, I didn’t fully understand the positive impact she had on her students until after her death. And I doubt these students, who sought me out to share their memories about my mother, fully understand how much these stories have helped me. I am grateful.

One of the most moving stories shared with me was delivered in an entirely unexpected place: a zoo. My children and I were visiting my son, who attended Xavier University in Cincinnati, about one year after my mother’s death. We made a trip to the zoo to see its famous hippo family. Waiting in line, a woman asked me about my connection to Xavier since I was wearing a shirt with the school’s logo. As the conversation unfolded, and I explained my son was a student at Xavier, this woman and I learned we were both from Connecticut. Then, the same town. Finally, the same high school.

My name? “Tom Matthews.”
“Mrs. Matthews, the English teacher?”
“Yes, that was my mother.”
“Was?”
“Unfortunately, she died last year.”
Tears filled the eyes of this woman, who then said, “Your mother changed my life.”

My children stood still in place and listened to this woman talk about my mother in near-reverent terms, recalling that no one ever believed in her the way my mom did. When she was ready to throw in the towel her junior year, my mother patiently worked with her on her writing.

In her senior year, my mother assisted her with a college essay, leading to admission, resulting in a nursing career. She told my children what a privilege it was to have my mom as their grandmother. They nodded knowingly. (Coincidentally, or perhaps because of divine intervention, zoos were always one of my mother’s favorite places to visit with all of us.)

When we were done talking, I thanked the woman, we hugged, then we headed out of the zoo. My children and I reached our car, sat in our seats … and cried.

It was a sad, joyful and necessary moment for all of us. We needed to hear that story because we needed to remember the most important way to honor those who have entered eternal rest is to never stop speaking about them.

(Tom Matthews attends St. Catherine of Siena Parish in Trumbull. He has worked in leadership positions in journalism, marketing and business services.)

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