Introduction
For decades, Engelbert Humperdinck was known as the man who sang about love. Romantic love. Lost love. Impossible love. But there was one kind of love he almost never spoke about in public — the quiet, unwavering love he carried for his mother.
Long before the fame, before “Release Me” turned him into an international sensation, Engelbert was simply Arnold Dorsey, a shy boy growing up in Leicester. His family had little money, and life was far from glamorous. His mother, however, believed in him with a devotion that never wavered. When others questioned whether music could ever be a real future, she defended him fiercely. When he doubted himself, she was the one who told him not to stop singing.
As his career grew, Engelbert became a global star. He performed in packed arenas, appeared on television around the world, and became a symbol of romance for millions. Yet behind the scenes, he remained deeply private — especially when it came to family. He rarely spoke about his mother in interviews. Not because she wasn’t important, but because the subject was too personal.
In the final years of her life, Engelbert visited her quietly, away from cameras and headlines. According to those close to him, there were moments when she no longer recognized the man her son had become — but she still responded to his voice. When he sang softly beside her bed, her expression changed. Her breathing slowed. It was as if music reached her when words no longer could.
There was one song Engelbert sang during those visits — not for an audience, not for a recording, not for the charts. Just for her. He never promoted it as a tribute. He never turned it into a public spectacle. In fact, for a long time, fans didn’t even know the song existed.
After his mother passed away, Engelbert avoided talking about that period of his life. But those closest to him said that the song became something sacred — a final conversation between a son and his mother. When he eventually performed it again years later, listeners noticed something different. His voice carried a weight it hadn’t before. Less polished. More fragile. More real.
For Engelbert Humperdinck, fame brought applause, admiration, and success. But it was his mother who gave him the voice — not just physically, but emotionally. And that song, sung quietly at the edge of life, remains one of the most personal moments of his entire career.