In Fort Salonga, a Mother's Day mission

Couple who lost son holds annual brunch for families whose children died

BY DAVE MARCUS | dave.marcus@newsday.com

10:28 PM EDT, May 10, 2008

Ann Cook and her husband Jim will host a Mother's Day brunch for those mothers whose sons or daughters have died of disease or accidents. (Newsday / Viorel Florescu)

For three years after her son, Peter McCabe, died of an asthma attack at age 30, Ann Cook celebrated Mother's Day with her nieces and nephews and their children. But on what was supposed to be a special day, she often felt empty inside.

So, in 2006, four years after Peter's death, Cook wrote to the bulletin of Alive Alone, a nonprofit nationwide support group for bereaved parents, and issued an open invitation to brunch. She invited mothers like herself -- those whose children had died. Today, she'll host her third Childless Mother's Day Brunch.

Several mothers and fathers showed up at Ann and Jim Cook's Fort Salonga ranch house that first year. The Cooks greeted them with chocolate butterfly lollipops and goodie bags. "It's still Mother's Day, and they're still mothers," Jim said.

"Just not active mothers -- that's what they say," added Ann, a retired school secretary.

Today, a dozen mothers and almost as many fathers will start the event by sharing photos of sons and daughters who died of illnesses or car crashes, suicides or fires. The moms will tell stories and comfort one another.

"Friends, relatives -- no one else understands what happens when a parent is left with no surviving children," Ann Cook said. "They can't unless they've experienced it, and you don't want anyone to experience it."

Ellen Pontecorvo, a retired social worker, plans today to return for her third brunch. "Mother's Day was so hard before, passing diners and restaurants with all these hearts and flowers," she said. "No one else knew the lonesomeness and emptiness of having lost an only child."

Her son, Mario Guy, 37, a construction worker and "strong, silent John Wayne type," died of pneumonia in 2004. Today she'll dress up, visit his gravestone, then bring a homemade Greek pastry to Ann Cook's house.

Over quiche, French toast, and a ham-and-cheese casserole, the moms expect to luxuriate in favorite memories.

Pontecorvo revels in the way her son took cars apart and put them together without a manual. For fun, he watched the History Channel and played trivia games, which he rarely lost.

Ann Cook reminisces about Peter's love of animals. Six years after Peter's death, his dog Kepi still roams the house, as if awaiting Peter's return.

Former Huntington resident Janis Iacino likes to talk about the way her daughter Suzanne, 23, spent her last Easter: She put on an impromptu egg hunt for children with AIDS.

Through a church group, the Cooks knew the Iacinos years ago. When the Iacinos' daughter died, the Cooks' son was still alive. "I had sympathy for Janis, but not empathy," Cook recalled. "I learned the empathy."

Suzanne committed suicide 14 years ago, and her mother says some friends felt so uncomfortable that they stopped talking to her. Today Iacino and her husband, Gabe, are driving up from the Jersey shore for the brunch.

"We're able to talk about our children without anybody feeling uncomfortable," Iacino said. "We speak freely, laugh if we want to, cry at the same time."