Two months ago, Edith Morgan attended an auction in Kansas City. It was the estate sale for her late son, Derrick Thomas. Morgan sat in Thomas' house while his paintings, articles of his clothing and other memorabilia were sold to curious fans for a total of $45,000.

I met Morgan last spring. It was only two months after Thomas died [in a car accident] and Morgan, along with some other members of the Professional Football Players' Mothers Association, was at a charity auction given by the Steelers' Jerome Bettis. Morgan now has her own foundation, "Mom 2 Mom 58," which promotes causes like child safety and cancer awareness. She says these are things that "touch mothers' hearts."

On this Mother's Day weekend, I am writing her the following letter.

Dear Edith,

When we spoke the other day, you seemed surprised that I remembered you. It made me think of how whenever my own mother leaves me a message, she always says, at least three times, "this is your Mom." Yeah, as if I could ever forget!

I'm happy to hear your foundation is going well and keeping you busy. But I must admit it was hard discussing Derrick's estate. When you said, "I don't want anyone else's mother to go through what I have this year," I was shaken by the pain in your voice. It was the voice of a mother who is still very much in shock. I know being in shock has allowed you to keep functioning. It has allowed you to keep a safe emotional distance from something that could destroy any mother. All those people who came to the estate that day were hoping to touch something that belonged to No. 58. But I know, while you sat there, you still felt him. After 33 years, he was still your baby.

To many, your son's wealth and fame made him seem more than human, and immune to pain. Judging by the way fans walked into his house, strolling right past you, maybe some see you the same way. The fact that you were grieving probably never crossed their minds. But I know you're like any other mom, and a brave one at that. What mother of a gifted son -- a son whose marvelous 11-year career made him one of the best to ever play his position -- could bear to watch strangers carry evidence of that career from his house? True, everything had a price tag that day, but it still must have felt like they were looting. As painful as it was for you, I understand why you had to be there, to see the ugly finality.

When you told me you'd be spending Mother's Day in Miami, I thought of another person I sometimes call Mom, who will be in San Diego this weekend. I once called her my mother-in-law, but over the last three years, during which we've grieved the death of her daughter, I think our relationship deserves more than a hyphenated label. What I didn't tell you is that, by some cruel twist of fate, this Mother's Day falls on the same day as what would have been the 31st birthday of her only child -- and my late wife. I passed on your message that you would be thinking of her on Sunday.

Happy Mother's Day. I hope the sunshine in Miami (and in San Diego) warms your heart this Sunday. And by the way, I was a little surprised that before hanging up the phone you said, "Thanks for thinking of me."

How could I not think of you?

Yours,
Alan

Alan Grant, a former NFL defensive back, writes football for ESPN The Magazine. E-mail him at alan.grant@espnmag.com.