Obituary of Shirley Muno

Shirley Muno (1935-2024), affectionately known as "Shirl the Pearl," drew her last breath this Christmas season, leaving behind a transformative presence of love and compassion. Like her nickname suggested, she possessed the rare ability to transform life's challenges into moments of light, layering adversity with luminescence until it became something precious—much like the formation of a pearl. This essence was made visible in the distinctive twinkle in her eyes, a light that reflected her inner peace and mirrored the beauty she was seeing in the world. Her generative warmth and loving legacy continue to illuminate the lives she touched.

Shirley Muno was born into this world on September 15, 1935 - a beloved daughter of two immigrants, William Mueller, of Egeln, Germany and Antoinette Asta of San Fili, Italy, and cherished sister of Helen and Francis. As a child, her father joked that Shirley was so close to her mother, that if her Mom stopped short, Shirley would bump into her.  Shirley reserved Sunday afternoons for listening to the radio from the perch of her mother’s lap. She wore socks to avoid making noise that could bother Nana and Tata who lived in the South Side Chicago apartment below. Whenever Shirley was sad, she could go downstairs, sit on Nana’s lap, sing a song, and Nana would give her a treat. In these early years, a strong familial love laid the foundations of loving kindness which would characterize her entire life. 

Shirley’s vision of love was expanded on a blind date in 1955 with Ronald Francis Muno. Ron had recently lost his father and the first date turned into a profound and emotional discussion about love and loss. Shirley knew this authenticity and level of emotional connection was rare. Their love grew into an extraordinary union that consistently reflected this depth.They married in 1958 and eventually moved north to the growing suburb of Libertyville, IL. Ron took a job as a Risk Manager for Outboard Marine and Shirley worked as a night nurse for Condell Hospital. They always found time to center their relationship and spend time together – over dinner or in the morning turnaround.

Their love for each other radiated through their children: Kimberly, Mark, Janice, Aileen, Ann and Laura. If you visited their home, you would remember the simplicity, the kindness, the grace and the connection they felt for each other. These connections were stretched by the devastating and tragic loss of their daughter Kimberly in 1976. Through the profound grief that followed, Ron frequently told Shirley, “It’s going to be okay, Baber. We’ve got each other.” They found strength in their union, their children and their faith. 

As the children grew older and followed their own paths, they continued to feel their mom’s unwavering and unconditional love. Shirley placed the highest value on their happiness and the quality of their relationships and never placed constraints on their choices: “I wouldn’t want you in my backyard miserable,” she’d quip without hesitation. Even a move across the country couldn’t weaken those bonds. 

Shortly after the last child moved out, Ron and Shirley embraced a long and fulfilling retirement together in Lake Geneva, Wisconsin and Peoria, Arizona. These days were filled with picnics, long walks and daily rituals of connections and further enhanced with the arrival of grandchildren. They had a shared love of natural beauty and spent much of their time in awe in local and national parks. Even a simple bird outside the window could fill Shirley with wonder. She took delight in her feathered visitors, noting their presence with awe. Her children lovingly nicknamed her “Shirley Bird” reflecting her unbounded sense of wonder  and a personality as unique and vibrant as her namesake. 

As the extended family grew, Shirley also delighted in knitting one-of-a-kind sweaters and blankets for her grandchildren Paul, Kimberly, Sophia, Isabella, Kristan, Elena, Carolena, Betelhem, Adanech and Fasil, and great-grandchildren Yostina, Amiziah and Cayden. 

In 2015, Ron was diagnosed with an aggressive cancer.  Before a November dawn, Shirley held his hand, laid her head on his shoulder and heard his last words: “Love you always and forever.” In the years that followed, Shirley never sought another relationship. When asked about it  she would reply she was “One and done.” Those who knew them understood she meant she had already found her One, and was forever grateful for their time together. 

Gratitude and grace - flowing from her deep faith - were Shirley’s defining characteristics. One of her life's most memorable encounters was meeting Saint Mother Teresa, whose values of faith, service, and dedication to others she embodied throughout her life. She did not often speak her values, Shirley lived them through quiet acts of compassion and selfless humility. She could make anyone feel comfortable in her presence. She listened with intent, not just to what you were saying, but to what you were meaning. Her capacity to forgive and resilience of spirit allowed her to have what she described as “Peace in your heart”, an essence that made her both beloved and inspiring to all who knew her. 

Shirley’s glow never dimmed even through her long struggle with cancer. Her sparkling eyes were always open to the beauty and worth of everyone she encountered. In her final months, she left her cherished community of Green Oaks to undergo treatment in  Seattle, WA. As in her Illinois home, the love she showed so freely flowed back to her.  She was reunited with the Italian delicacies and treats of her childhood prepared by her son-in-law.  Shirley often seemed surprised by the unconditional love expressed by those beyond her immediate family. To those outside, it was merely mirroring back what Shirley brought into our world. Her treatments became almost social in nature with daughters, grandchildren and in-laws accompanying her. Nurses and other medical professionals would linger in her light and join in the conversations. 

Between treatment, she would still light up  from her “blue chariot” wheelchair with a smile that could draw anyone into her gaze. Pushing her in this “chariot” felt like a walk of gratitude as she paused to notice beauty you might normally rush past, reminding you to appreciate passing moments. 

In her last months, Shirley fully understood her cancer could not be cured and that while her spirit was strong, her body was weakened. She loved life yet faced this reality with characteristic grace and acceptance: “We are not meant to be here forever.” She always had a loved one at her side, reading out loud, watching sports, praying together, talking, listening to music, or hearing the wisdom of a life well lived.  On her last night, the winter solstice—the longest night of the year—her right hand moved to her chest. Her fingers found Ron’s ring on her necklace. Gently sliding her finger inside the ring, she waited. 

Shirley passed the following morning, on Sunday, Dec 22nd, the feast day of St. Frances Cabrini - the Italian American patron saint of immigrants who established hospitals and support centers for immigrants in Chicago and beyond. On any other Sunday, Shirley would have honored the day by watching her televised masses, first from Milwaukee and then from Chicago. Instead, she was at peace in her candle lit bedroom surrounded by family - in person, in photographs, in cards, and in spirit.  Her final breath was soft as a whisper - and with this breath “Shirley Bird” flew to her Beloved.
 

A Catholic mass and burial will be held on April 26th at 10am  at St. Joe’s Catholic Church in Libertyville, IL; Father Matt Foley will be presiding.  A graveside ceremony at Ascension Cemetery will follow the service.

In lieu of flowers, donations can be made to: 

The Kim Muno Scholarship Fund 

℅ Steve Lichter 745 Hawthorn Row, Unit 4208

Vernon Hills, IL 60061

The Funeral Mass may be livestreamed via this LINK