Susanne Irene Donatelli, beloved wife of Victor, mother of Joe, Tom and Dan, and second mom to all the neighborhood kids making a ruckus in her home -- a people person who either knew you, or knew someone you knew, died on October 5, 2026. She spent her final weeks in home hospice in the warm company and comfort of loved ones, departing this mortal coil with a perfect record of taking as long as possible to leave any party she attended.
Sue was the daughter of a gruff one-armed Alcoa factory worker (Robert Squires) who scared every child he ever met, and later delighted them. He married his cosmic opposite (Irene Kennedy), an overnight labor and delivery nurse at Marymount who was so kind and loving that at her standing-room-only funeral, a priest was said to remark, "Who was this holy woman?" In addition to Sue, they had four boys (Bob, Larry, Tom and Mike), all of them great guys who loved a good joke as much as an argument. A rare point of agreement among them was that they thought they had the greatest sister in the world.
Sue was a proud graduate of Holy Name High School ('67), where she sang in the glee club with her brothers. Oh, did we mention Holy Name? She loved Holy Name.
After high school (Holy Name), Sue worked at Bigelow Carpets, traveled a bit with her cousin (Mary Ann) and was set up on a blind date (thanks, Frank) with the best damn guy anyone ever met, Vic Donatelli, an Air Force airman who became a master mechanic and probably fixed your Buick if you lived in the Cleveland area and your Buick was making that weird sound again. They married in 1972, and her brother Mike who was still in high school and some of the guys from the Holy Name football team fled the homecoming dance and crashed the reception. (You were warned about the volume of Holy Name content.) A few years later, Vic and Sue bought the smallest possible house with the biggest possible garage in Mayfield Heights, which satisfied Vic's ambitious collection of tools and Sue's desire to speed clean the house in less than an hour on Saturday mornings.
Sue and Vic had three sons, one of whom is the author of this obituary, and let it be known that the firstborn, Joe, is the most handsome. It's a toss-up between Tom and Dan for second. The boys gave their mother the greatest gift of all -- poorly-made construction-paper art projects. And laughter. Of the two, she enjoyed the laughter more and put the "art" in a drawer, never to be opened again. The dinner table was filled with city chicken, apple sauce and comedy. Joe, Tom and Dan cracking jokes. Sue roaring. Vic quietly eating, opening his mouth to conjure the one remark that topped them all. On Thursday nights, when Vic worked overtime, and the family had leftovers, all bets were off. There have been many great comedy shows in the history of this great nation, and not all of them were televised.
The highlight of summer was the annual family vacation at Deer Creek State Park, where the boys spent the week with their friends risking the health and safety of everyone in the pool with their football and Wiffle ball games. Sue's meals on these vacations were legendary. There was always a ham, served the first or second night to her husband and her sons and a motley assortment of guys named Matt and Frank and Mike and Jason and whoever else they were able to jam into their two-bedroom cottage. Then there were Sue's famous chicken cutlets, and her lasagna, and somehow it lasted all week, like with Jesus and the fishes and loaves, only with ham.
The boys attended school at Saint Francis of Assisi, where she had an absolutely legendary run on the pastoral council, and as a school volunteer, newsletter writer, sacramental program manager, festival volunteer, calendar fundraiser, founder of the "Nintendo Power" video game club and lunch mom who made sure you got the corner piece of Miguelito's pizza if you wanted it.
She made education a priority with her sons and spent countless hours helping them with their homework and school projects. As a reward, they could watch TV, which led to many spirited discussions between Sue and Tom about why 11 PM was an unreasonable time for a 9-year-old to be watching Showtime.
All three sons played a lot of baseball, Dan most of all. She never missed one of his games, but she also never watched any of them. Too nervous, she would pace the parking lot, praying rosaries. And Dan can attest, the rosaries worked. Sorry, Solon Comets.
The boys went to Mayfield High and graduated from Ohio University. Both schools have green and white colors, which made Sue happy, because those are Holy Name's colors. While the boys were at OU, she traveled down to Athens for Mom's Weekend 10 straight years without being arrested or waking up with a tattoo, which is believed to be a school record.
Sue went back to work when her little latchkey Gen Xers could be trusted not to burn the house down. At Progressive, her first paycheck was accidentally mixed up with a corporate vice president's. When she faxed a copy of her $17,000 paycheck to Vic at the Buick dealership, he advised her to cash it and head to Mexico. Wisely, she did not, and she went on to work at Progressive until she retired. She loved her coworkers at Progressive, which she always praised as a great place to work.
A lifelong Browns fan, Sue attended the first Monday Night Football game at Municipal Stadium, in 1970, and lived for the Kardiac Kids and Bernie's Browns. She often yelled "Kill him!" at the TV when the defense was not sufficiently violent enough for her liking. In her final weeks, she declared that her relationship with the franchise ceases with her life in this realm, which can only mean she will spend eternity in heaven.
Sue was a favorite cousin, aunt, godmother, neighbor, babysitter, confidant, coworker and friend.
She quietly donated money to the Food Bank, Poor Clares, Tunnel to Towers, Unbound and Heifer International, among others.
After retiring, Sue and Vic went on cruises, took road trips and gambled at casinos. She died beating the house on slots. For years, she watched her grandchildren, Rocco and Gia, twice a week, and they played together in the yard, on the swing set, in the kiddie pool and at board games. Were there toys? With "Kiddie City Sue," there were always toys. So. Many. Toys. She went to the kids' ball games, recitals and theater performances, always a proud grandma.
Sue's message, on her deathbed, was simple.
"Be kind to everyone."
For that, she was known.
Wake:
Friday, Oct. 9, 2026 from 3 -7 PM
DiCicco & Sons
5975 Mayfield Road, Mayfield Heights, Ohio, 44124
Funeral mass:
Saturday, Oct. 10, 2026 at 10 AM
St. Francis of Assisi
6850 Mayfield Road, Gates Mills, Ohio, 44040
Burial services following mass:
Knollwood Cemetery
Mayfield Heights
Luncheon following burial:
DiCicco & Sons
Donations: