By Danny Minton

Many of you may remember a comedian, actor, and singer who was popular in Vaudeville in the 1920s, radio broadcasts in the 1930s and 1940s, and in movies and TV in the 1950s and 1960s, with his own TV show from 1954-56. His name was Jimmy Durante, known for his gravelly voice and, as he called it, his Schnozzola (a form of the Yiddish word, Schnoz, for a big nose). 

For those who may remember, he started in the late ‘40s, ending his program with the phrase, “Goodnight, Mrs. Calabash.” Later, he changed the phrase to what most of us remember: “Goodnight, Mrs. Calabash, wherever you are.” For years, people speculated about who Mrs. Calabash was and why he said goodnight to her. Durante would evade answering when asked. Theories ranged from it being a woman that he met to being a name he made up for the show. He kept it secret for years, with only his close family knowing. In the mid-1960s, he finally revealed the secret of Mrs. Calabash. There are a few differences in when and to whom he told, with the two most popular being the “Johnny Carson Show” and an interview with The National Press Club in 1966. However, the answer is the same.

In 1921, Durante married the singer and entertainer, Jean “Jeanne” Olson. Jean developed a heart ailment and passed away on Valentine’s Day 1943. Durante told the story that one night he and Jeanne ate at a restaurant and spent the night in the little town of Calabash, North Carolina. Jeanne liked the name, so Durante started calling her his special name for her: Mrs. Calabash. After Jeanne passed away, Durante went through a period of deep grief like most do when living with the death of someone you love so dearly. Jimmy Durante always had his signature song, “Inka Dinka Doo,” but he began adding a phrase that only he and a handful knew was a re-embrace of his late wife, Jean. At the end of every program for decades, he would end with, “Goodnight, Mrs. Calabash, wherever you are.” It was his way of handling grief and telling the love of his life, I still love you.”

It is said that when he told this story to Johnny Carson before an audience of over 300 and a television audience of millions, people sent letters about how, that one show, helped them understand how to handle grief. One woman wrote that she had always wanted to remember her husband without making it a spectacle, and Durante helped her think it through.

When we think of grief, we most often associate it with what comes when someone first faces loss. The sadness, depression, and feelings of personal loss can be overwhelming to people who lose a loved one. For some, it takes weeks or even years to reach a point where they feel their lives will be better again. 

Grief never really goes away. The early pains subside, yet somewhere in our hearts, the love of that person is always tucked away, and we often have ways quietly known only to us to remember them. They may be a flower tucked away in a book, mashed and faded. Someone opening the book might see it and not give it a second thought, but the one who gently placed it there might see it as a personal reminder of a simple gift across an anniversary dinner table. Maybe it’s a word we always laughed at together that brings a memory and smile to our face. A song, a certain table at a restaurant, or an old gift that only we know about, but cherish, and that, for a moment, brings a little quiet grief alive from that place in our hearts.

There’s a movie with Betty White where she has a rose bush in the front yard. To most people it’s just a bush, but to her, as she prunes it, it brings back memories of her and her husband planting it when they were young. In the middle drawer on the left side of my desk, there’s a small, red arm warmer neatly rolled up. If you opened the drawer, you’d think nothing of it. You’d move it around to find what you were looking for and shut the drawer. When I open the drawer and see it lying there, it’s more than a red piece of cloth. It’s a quiet memory of our oldest son who passed away. What’s in your drawer or on a shelf? What is that quiet memory that you hold dear?

Most of us have something that is a memory of a lost loved one that only our hearts hold the true meaning of. They are our small memorials of grief, quiet and reserved for only ourselves or a small, intimate group. They have little or no monetary value but are priceless heirlooms that hold a special place. The trauma of grief will always pass, but the silent grief that keeps that holding place in our hearts will always be there.

Jimmy Durante was asked by his daughter when he would tell the story of Mrs. Calabash. It made him think and realize that he didn’t want the memory to die with him, so he decided to share what it meant to him. When he opened his heart, he unknowingly helped thousands of others learn how to open their hearts to a grief that never completely goes away.

When Jesus went up to the mountainside and delivered what we call “The Sermon on the Mount,” he began his lesson with two statements addressed to those who are hurting. He addressed the “poor in spirit,” who realize that they are helpless without God, and “those who mourn,” that God will be there to comfort them. Two phrases that help us all through grief, given by someone who deeply knows how we feel when life is interrupted by loss.

Tonight, as you close your eyes, say “Goodnight” to that one you miss and let the warmth of God’s love give you peace.

Danny Minton, a member of Southern Hills Church of Christ, is a hospital chaplain