Trust by Mona Quinn

My dear Martin,

To say I was thrilled to bits when I got your letter this morning is putting it mildly. I love you with all my heart, as I do all my children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren.

No, Martin, I was neither sad nor confused when your dad told me.

Let me tell you a story. When I was about 13 or 14 there was a man in Blackrock who was the most likeable guy I ever met. He was so funny. He could act the clown so well. This he did every Sunday.

In those days, Blackrock was thronged with people from Monaghan and Cavan. He was a gay man, and with the money he made going up and down the village every Sunday, in a few summers he made enough money to build Blackrock Chapel. Jim was a lovely man, and I’m sure God is rewarding him now.

Please don’t look on me, Martin, as a saint. I have made mistakes, too. As P. Sharkey told me many moons ago, “I will be a while on the landing”, but if I get that far, I can wait.

Martin, you are a wonderful person, and Edel was too. You have no idea what her death cost me; I thought I would have died along with her. Every day I ask her to help me cope. I have her photo beside my bed, and I have no doubt she is helping me.

I know lots of gay people and they are all very nice. Who knows why God made gay people? You can be sure He has his reasons.

Now, Martin, if you can make a story out of this lot, you are indeed very clever. As a matter of fact, I sincerely hope you can read it. It must be years since I wrote a letter, but as I said before I was not shocked. We all have to put our TRUST in the Sacred Heart – without him there would be nothing.

It was wonderful hearing from you this morning, and I look forward to seeing you in August. May God bless and take care of you and bring you home safely.

I love you so much, Martin,


P.S. Peter, your dad, was like a son to me. I simply adored him.

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