Still Grieving for a Very Special Woman

My mother died 39 years ago, when I was 22. She was 47. She developed breast cancer when I was a college freshman. I did not know any of this until I returned home on a summer break from the University of Wisconsin.

In those days, families (at least mine) were very secretive. We never talked to her, or even about her among ourselves, about her “condition.” We thought we were fooling everyone, but indeed we fooled no one, least of all my mother who desperately needed our truth and support.

Your article, “Motherless Daughters” (July 27) brought it all back, right here, staring me in the face, causing tears and terrible sadness.

My worst times in the early years following her death were when I saw a mother and daughter out together . . . shopping, dining, at a movie. It’s easier now, at 60, when many friends have lost mothers.

Although, my aunt, my mother’s sister, took over a “mothering” role in my life, it’s never the same. We both know it because we still grieve for a woman very special to both of us.

BARBARA JOAN GRUBMAN

Woodland Hills