By John Lyle Belden

We are often reminded to “Never Forget” a devastating event or era, but those who went through it often can’t stop remembering. Every day, any little thing can bring up a memory of someone who was lost.

“Mothers and Sons” by Terrance McNally, presented by Main Street Productions in Westfield, has a cast of four actors, but there are five characters. Not present but very much felt is Andre, who died 20 years earlier during the AIDS epidemic. We are in the New York apartment, with a view of Central Park as lights come on during the longest night of the year, of Cal (Austin Uebelhor), who had been Andre’s partner and caregiver in his final days. To his mild surprise, he is visited by Andre’s mother, Katherine (Elizabeth Ruddell). Recently widowed, she arrived from Dallas (where Andre grew up) with plans to fly to Europe. Cal shares his home with husband Will (Nicholas Heskett) and their young son, Bud (Tyler Acquaviva).

We come to learn a lot about Cal, Will, Katherine, and Andre. Will chafes at the thought of competing with a ghost. Katherine still harbors resentments and denial – “Andre wasn’t gay when he went to New York.” Cal tries to keep the pain of the past in perspective even as it rises up to overwhelm him again.

“Who’s Andre?” Little Bud is chock full of questions, lots of questions.

This heartfelt play is a comedy, with lots of chuckles throughout, but there is pain that must be dealt with. Grief has no time limit or expiration; before the evening is done, so that Bud and his family can trim the Christmas tree, each adult will have their say.

Ruddell makes Katherine hard to love, but easy to understand. Heskett presents as a superficial millennial, but he emerges Will’s own sense of maturity. Acquaviva delivers the right level of charm. Uebelhor is superb as the man who has had to be a rock for so long, the cracks are undeniable.

Jim LaMonte directs, happy to present this play that he hopes “will broaden [people’s] definition of family.” For those of us who remember the 1980s and ‘90s, this show is also a loving tribute to the struggles so many endured – those who became names on a quilt, and those left behind to stitch them on.

Remaining performances are Thursday through Sunday, Nov. 17-20, at Basile Westfield Playhouse, 220 N. Union St. Get info and tickets at WestfieldPlayhouse.org.