Post by Anna on Jan 3, 2008 15:24:46 GMT -5
i have no idea who DID write it, but i saw it the other day and its really good. and its also very sad, so you might cry, but its worth it. and it makes you appreciate your mom a little bit more 
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Mama thank you for who I am
Kevin, Joseph, Nicholas, and Frankie Jonas took their seats in the long, uncomfortable pews. Looking ahead, their vision blurred as tears rushed to their eyes. It was a day they hadn’t expected to come for a very long time; a day that wasn’t supposed to happen until far, far into the future.
They watched as their father shakily came to them, his eyes blank and red from tears spilled only moments before. Unable to hold back the agonizing tears, he broke down and gripped the edge of the pew before taking his seat. Situating himself between the end of the wooden seat and his oldest son, he looked ahead as the remaining members of the Jonas family mourned the loss of someone dear to them.
“We’re gathered here,” began the minister, “to celebrate the life of a wonderful woman. She was a delight to the community as well as to anyone she met outside of it. She blessed the hearts of many and will be remembered by all. Denise Miller Jonas was one of a kind and will forever be missed.”
Thank you for all the things I’m not
Denise Jonas sat in the plastic chair of the doctor’s office. Fiddling with her nails, she waited patiently for news from her physician, hoping the information would be positive. Looking at her husband who was sitting right across from her, she covered his shaking hands with her own and gave him an optimistic smile.
“It’ll be okay, Kevin. Everything’s going to be just fine.” Smiling at his wife, he intertwined their fingers and stroked the top of her hand with his thumb. Crookedly standing up from the chair, he kissed her softly on the cheek. He sat down once again when the door to the office opened, revealing a grim-looking man.
“Dr. Reynolds, what is it?” she asked, watching as he sat down behind the desk uncomfortably. He rested his elbows on the desk and rested his head on his folded fists.
“T-Things don’t look good, Denise; not good at all.”
Forgive me for the words unsaid
Denise’s brother, Joshua, took his place at the head of the church. Clearing his throat and wiping a tear from his cheek, he looked at his nephews and brother-in-law with a hint of a smile on his face. Taking a folded piece of paper from the breast pocket of his suit, he opened it and read aloud.
“My sister was the kind of woman you never forget. She was always optimistic about things and never let anything bring her down. She was also such a kind soul. I remember when we were little, she wasn’t the stereotypical sister who pushed her younger brother down the stairs,” he chuckled lightly, the whole church matching his laughter. “She always helped me with my homework and whenever she could, she spent time with me. We would watch cartoons on Saturdays and ride our bicycles to the market.”
For the times
I forgot
Nicholas bit his lip, tears streaming down his face and hitting his chest heavily. His throat closed up as the sight of his beautiful mother filled his mind; her beautiful curly hair that she has passed down to him, her deep brown eyes that brightened his day, and her soft touch that used to soothe him during his worst days.
He wringed his hands together as the cool April air filled the church. The rain pitter-pattering against the roof matched his beating heart, the scent of rain enveloping him. He felt a tug at his side and he looked to his younger brother, Frankie.
“N-Nick? Why is it raining during Mama’s funnel?” Nick forced a smile, his six-year-old brother’s innocence making his heart shatter.
“You mean fune—funeral?” His brother nodded. “It’s raining, Frankie, because God’s crying.”
“Why’s God crying?”
“He’s sad.”
“But… why?”
“Because Mommy’s gone,” Nick whispered, his voice cracking as his tears freely cascaded down his cheeks.
“But shouldn’t he be happy?” Frankie asked innocently, gently rubbing Nick’s arm. Nick looked at him questioningly, truthfully wondering whether Frankie understood or not. Seeing the distraught look on his brother’s face, Frankie smiled. “He should be happy because she’s with him now.”
Mama remember all my life
“The breast cancer is back?” Denise asked, her voice barely above a whisper. The doctor nodded at her and she felt sick to her stomach. She sighed, looking at her husband giving him the best smile she could muster. Her heart sank knowing that sooner than she had hoped, she would no longer be able to see his face, nor the faces of her four sons.
“You will want to spend as much time with your family as you can, Denise. I don’t… I don’t see any possibility of improvement at this point.”
Crying the hardest he had ever cried in years, Kevin Jonas, Sr. looked his wife in the eye and tightened his hand around hers. His heart ached with the words of the doctor ringing in his ears. He couldn’t believe that his wife of nearly twenty years was sick. He would sell his soul for a cure for her in an instant if it meant she would live. He knew, however, that that was impossible.
You showed me love; you sacrificed
It was finally time for Denise’s oldest son, Kevin, to step up to the altar. He shakily stood to his feet, brushing off his pants as he walked up the steps to the podium. He turned to face the people before him; relatives from states away and friends from church. His body trembled as he took in a breath, his heart wrenching as he felt the presence of his mother’s soulless body merely two feet behind him.
Tapping meekly on the microphone, he laughed as a small sound of feedback came through the speakers. Digging in the front pocket of his pants, he pulled out an index card with his speech scrawled on one side of it. Writing it had probably been the most difficult thing for him to do because all the memories of his childhood had decided to reenter his mind.
“My mom,” he began with a tearless expression on his face, “was and forever will be the most important woman in my life. She taught me how to live and even more importantly, she taught me how to love. Her kind…” He stopped, feeling tears come to his eyes and his throat closing.
“Her kind heart proved to be the inspiration I always needed whenever I was feeling down. Her wise words always proved to be the best guidance I ever received. Her soft hands would wipe my tears away, her warm hugs would ease my broken heart, and her g-gentle voice soothed my insecurities. But now…”
His voice trailed off as he lay the card down on the podium. Setting his fist heavily on the podium, he brought his other hand to his face and cried as he looked at his mother lying lifelessly in her casket. Lined with light pink silk, her beautiful features were still evident. Picking up his feet slowly, he walked over to stand beside her. Brushing his finger over her cold hands, barely even touching them, he bit his lip.
Collapsing to his knees, he sobbed into the crook of his elbow; his mess of curls brushing against his arm. The entire church felt only a fraction of his pain, with the exception of his father and brothers in the pew below. Wiping his eyes and nose with the sleeve of his black polo, he looked at his mom with stinging eyes. Wrapping one of her curls around his index finger, he let out an indistinguishable sound.
“Mom,” he wept quietly, “who’s going to wipe my tears now? Who’s g-going to hug me when I’m hurting? I need you, Mom. We all need you here.”
Think of those young and early days
It had been the biggest rainstorm to hit Wyckoff, New Jersey in fifteen years. Five-year-old Joseph Jonas clutched his Barney plush tightly in his arms. Sniffling quietly, he shuddered as the thunder boomed overhead. He felt tears in his eyes and touched them innocently with his hand. The thunder became louder, scaring him out of bed.
“Mama!” he hollered as he stumbled down the carpeted stairs of his family’s small house. “I’m scared, Mama, hold me.” Jumping onto his mother’s lap as she sat on the couch, he trembled in her arms and she laughed. “Mommy, stop laughing!” his lip quivered as he spoke, “I’m scared, okay?!”
“Joseph, sweetheart,” she smiled, tickling him in the side and earning a giggle from her son, “you don’t have to be scared of the rain.”
“I like the rain!” he shouted over the thunder, taking a firm hold on her sweater sleeve. “It’s the sound I don’t like!”
Smiling at her son’s simplicity, she wrapped her arms around his small figure and hugged him tightly. Turning her head and looking over her shoulder, an idea came to mind. She picked him up and brought him into the kitchen, setting him awkwardly on the counter. Opening the freezer, she pulled out a box of instant chocolate chip cookie dough. Just as she was pulling a few cookie trays from the cupboard, Kevin Jr. walked into the kitchen.
“Mom, what are you guys doing?” he asked, scratching his eye with one hand and holding a game boy in the other. He looked at his brother sitting on the counter and he suddenly understood. “Is little Joe scared of the thunderstorm?” he taunted, poking Joe repeatedly in the stomach, earning a whine and a small punch from him. “Hey!”
“Boys,” she scolded. “Keep it down or you’re going to wake up your brother.”
“Nick?” Kevin asked, busying his hands with his game boy. “He’s been awake, watching Blue’s Clues in the den.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?! He could’ve—”
“Mama, I’ve been watching him, don’t worry,” Kevin grinned with his two front teeth missing and his glasses at the end of his nose. “Can we make cookies?”
“Of course,” she smiled.
Kevin jumped excitedly and ran to fetch his youngest brother. Baking cookies was his mother’s way of easing their fear and he always loved that about her. She had a way of making something so simple mean so much.
How I’ve changed
Along the way
Finding himself unable to speak anymore, Kevin excused himself back to the pew his brothers and father were seated on. Tapping Joseph on the shoulder, he signaled it was time for him to address the rest of the church. His cheeks were already stinging as tears had dried on them, but Joe managed to pick himself up and painfully walked up the steps leading to his mother’s casket. Kissing his hand and touching it to his mother’s cheek, he moved to the microphone by the podium.
“Um… everyone’s pretty much said what I wanted to say. What can you say about a woman who was perfect?” he asked, shrugging to make light of the situation. “You can only say so much to describe my mom, but it’ll never be enough. She was an amazing woman who loved life and loved people; she never let you forget it. Once you met her, you’d never forget her; that beautiful smile, that beautiful warmth about her. She may be ‘gone’, but she’ll always be in my heart.”
Joe nodded his head slowly, satisfied with his words. Walking over to his mother, he leant over and kissed her cheek.
“I love you, Mama,” he smiled. “You’ll always be here…” he tapped the area on his chest right above his heart. “… right here.”
And I know you believed
And I know you had dreams
“You… no… she can’t, Dad!”
“Kevin, there’s nothing they can do. The doctors have tried everything b—”
“They’ve done nothing!” Kevin yelled angrily, smacking his palm against the wall. “The d-doctors obviously haven’t tried hard enough if she’s… if she’s…”
“Please, sweetheart, don’t talk about me like I’m not even in the room,” Denise pleaded, her voice calm. “Sit down, Kevin.”
“How did this happen? When, how soon?”
“They’ve given me three months, Joseph,” she nodded.
“What?!” Nick screeched, his eyes searching his mother. “Th… Three months? How… what… why?”
“Sometimes this happens, Nicholas.”
“But not to you! You’re perfect, Mom.”
She smiled. “I am far from perfect, sweetheart. But God has bigger plans for me and as I told your father, I’ve accepted that. Instead of being angry, why don’t you just—”
“What, Mom? Accept it? Forgive God for taking you away from us?”
“Do not blame God for this, Kevin. And I’m still here; He hasn’t ‘taken me away’. Let’s enjoy the time I’m left with and not dwell on this little fact.”
Joe shook his head. “No, Mom. This isn’t just a ‘little fact’. You’re sick and we can’t do anything about it.”
“Love me, Joseph. That’s all I ask.”
And I’m sorry it took all this time to see
Nicholas paced back and forth in the living room. He found it harder and harder not to be angry with his mother. He clenched his fists and hit them against his thighs as he thought. Desperate to leave, he glared at his mother who in turn, stared him down.
“You can look at me like that all you want, Nicholas, but no thirteen-year-old son of mine is going to a high school party.” She continued stirring the penne sauce calmly, trying to ignore her son’s fierce looks.
“Joe’s going to be there, Mom. Why can’t I go?” Nick threw his arms in the air, unable to understand why his mother was being so unreasonable.
“I know what’s best for you and I know what happens at these parties. Had your father not convinced me, Joseph wouldn’t even be going to this party.”
“I can’t believe you,” Nick spat. “I hate you.” Stomping his foot on the tiled floor of the kitchen, he ran upstairs and slammed his door. Denise frowned, hating that her son was angry with her. Feeling a tug at her heart, she closed her eyes and let the tears fall.
That I am where I am because of your truth
I miss you, I miss you
Finished with what he had to say, Joe walked back down the steps and sat down in his seat. Nick took that as his sign to go on. Unfolding his fist once he got the podium, he unfurled a damp piece of binder paper that he had prepared that morning. Trying to read the scrawled writing on it, he instead crumpled it and stuffed it in his pocket. Folding up the sleeves of his button-up shirt to his elbows, he shook his head and leaned against the podium.
“I had this long speech ready for this moment, but I realized just now that you can never really prepare a speech to say at your mother’s f-funeral.” He wiped a stray tear and wringed his hands together. Letting out a soft laugh as a memory came to mind, he sighed. “In these fifteen years of my life, I could never ask for a better mom.” He stopped to sort through his thoughts.
“M-My mom had this funny way of making any bad situation into a good one. She always made a joke and somehow, that made it better. I can’t help but think that right now she’s up there bothering all the kid angels about cleaning up their rooms,” he laughed. Swallowing back a lump that had formed in his throat, his face fell and he found it harder to speak. “I’m never going to forget my mother. As much as I used to disagree with her disciplining, I now understand that she did have my best interests at heart and it’s only because she loves me.”
“I want to sing something for her because that’s what she’d want me to do. ‘Nicholas,’ she always told me, ‘use your voice for something good. You always make me smile when I hear your beautiful voice.’” Looking toward the ceiling, Nick smiled. “This one’s for you, Mom; I hope it makes you smile.”
“It’s not goodbye,
‘Cause I will remember you
And I will see you again
When I rise
‘Cause I know and I believe
I will see you in eternity…”
His voice had ended with a crack and tears began to spill down his face. Turning away from his friends and family, he looked at his mother with a heavy heart. “This isn’t goodbye, Mom,” he sobbed with a forced smile. “It’s just a ‘see you later’, okay? I love you.”
Mama forgive the times you cried
Forgive me for not making right
“I hate you!” Joseph cried, his face reddening and his fists tightened. “Why can’t you ever understand me?! I don’t want to talk about it!” Slamming his bedroom door, he lay down on his bed and set his pillow over his face. Denise rested herself against his door and tapped softly on the wood.
“Joseph, I’m just trying to help you—” She jumped, feeling the door ripped open and seeing her son’s face, fuming with anger.
“You really want to help? Stay out of my life!”
Shutting his door with a loud kick, she swallowed back tears. It pained her to see her son like that, especially when she was just trying to help him right a wrong.
All of the storms I may have caused
And I’ve been wrong
Dry your eyes
Denise took a look at her sons and waved them over so they would sit next to her on the couch. Feeling the weight shift as they took positions on either side of her, Frankie in her lap, she smiled.
“I need you boys to understand how much I love you; each and every one of you. I know this is hard to digest, but I’m sure you all will get through this. I’m going to be in your hearts and I never want you to forget me. You’ll be sad and that’s normal, but don’t be sad for long. Just know that I’ll be in a better place; you won’t have to worry about me.”
Kevin wrapped his arms around his mother, resting his head on her shoulder. “If it means you stay here, I’d rather worry about you.” Denise laughed, playing with the curls that went over his eyes.
“Sweetheart, you have to look at the brighter side of things.”
Nick scoffed. “My mom’s dying. What’s the bright side of that?” He got up and went upstairs, ignoring Joe’s calls.
“Give him time, Joseph,” Denise cooed, rubbing Joe’s back with her free hand. “It’s normal that he reacts like this.” They stayed in silence for a few minutes as the boys began to drift off to sleep.
“Are you scared, Mom?” Joe yawned, his eyelids becoming heavy. Denise soon felt him and her other sons fall asleep.
“Yes,” she sighed. “I am.”
Mama I hope this makes you smile
I hope you’re happy with my life
Kevin Sr. stood up and looked around, taking his cue from the minister to walk up to the stand. Taking a look at his wife lying in her casket, he bit his fist as tears made their way to his eyes. Breathing unevenly, his heart tore in two as he finally realized that his wife would no longer be by his side when he awoke in the morning; he would no longer see her bright face.
“Denise,” he said into the microphone, “was a woman who felt it was her duty to bring joy to the world, and she did just that. With a simple smile, a small hello, or the tiniest act of kindness, she made a person’s burdens seem miniscule. She was an amazing woman; a mother, a wife, a sister, a daughter, a friend. I thank her for the amazing twenty years she gave me; for our four sons and the wonderful house she built. Her memory will l-live in our hearts forever.”
At peace with every choice I made
How I’ve changed
Along the way
“Thank you for those who spoke,” Kevin Sr. nodded, putting his shaking hands together. “If there’s no one else who’ll come up, we’d like t—”
“Wait!” Everyone looked up and saw the tiniest hand in the air, belonging to Denise’s youngest son, Frankie. He jumped up from his seat and told his brothers to move their legs out of the way so he could inch his way out from between the pews. “I have something to say, Daddy!” he yelled, bounding up the steps and waving his hand in the air. The people in the church let out soft laughs and watched as Kevin Sr. positioned the microphone to Frankie’s height.
Everyone resettled in their seats and watched as Frankie stared blankly into space before he looked at the microphone.
“I was telling my brother, Nick,” he said slowly, his voice low, “that we shouldn’t be sad. I may only be seven, but I know that my mommy is in a better place. She used to tuck me in at night and sing me a lullaby, or read me a story. I won’t forget her voice and I won’t forget what she looks like, so I’ll always remember my mommy. Before she, um, d-died, she told me that I should never be sad. She pointed here…” Frankie lifted his finger and looked down at his chest, pointing at his heart, “and said that she would always be there. I don’t know how she’s going to do that, but I believe her.”
“She was so pretty and I love when she sang songs because it made me get goosey bumps on my arms. She also told me to tell my friends something.”
And I know you believed in all of my dreams
Frankie straightened out his jacket and all eyes were on him, waiting for the words that were going to escape his mouth. Even his brothers and father were on the edge of their seats.
“My mommy told me to tell you that you should always love your mommy. Mommies are what make the world go around and around and around. They can spank us, and yell, and get mad, and do stuff, but they’re the ones who, at the end of the night, tuck us in to sleep and say prayers for us. They make us dinner and buy us stuff. We should always thank our mommies because we never know when they’ll be gone. I love my mommy and that’s not going to change.”
Frankie hopped down the steps and sat down on his oldest brother’s lap, stunning him. The whole church was left silent as they dwelled on his words. Tears had been shed and memories had been brought up; smiles, frowns, and laughter was shared. Denise Miller Jonas was a woman who left a mark on people’s souls and hearts.
And I owe it all to you, Mama
The funeral had ended and the boys stood as the casket was lowered into the ground. They were no longer crying for their mother, but joyous for the time they were blessed with. They understood that they were molded by her love and her kindness. Thanks to her, her sons decided right then to live each day to the fullest and each night, prayed to God thanking Him for her. Everything they did, every choice they made, was somehow influenced by her. The unnecessary anger they used to feel—the adolescent “I hate you!”s and the “Stay out of my life!”s—were the result of what they now understood to be one woman’s undying love for them.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Mama thank you for who I am
Kevin, Joseph, Nicholas, and Frankie Jonas took their seats in the long, uncomfortable pews. Looking ahead, their vision blurred as tears rushed to their eyes. It was a day they hadn’t expected to come for a very long time; a day that wasn’t supposed to happen until far, far into the future.
They watched as their father shakily came to them, his eyes blank and red from tears spilled only moments before. Unable to hold back the agonizing tears, he broke down and gripped the edge of the pew before taking his seat. Situating himself between the end of the wooden seat and his oldest son, he looked ahead as the remaining members of the Jonas family mourned the loss of someone dear to them.
“We’re gathered here,” began the minister, “to celebrate the life of a wonderful woman. She was a delight to the community as well as to anyone she met outside of it. She blessed the hearts of many and will be remembered by all. Denise Miller Jonas was one of a kind and will forever be missed.”
Thank you for all the things I’m not
Denise Jonas sat in the plastic chair of the doctor’s office. Fiddling with her nails, she waited patiently for news from her physician, hoping the information would be positive. Looking at her husband who was sitting right across from her, she covered his shaking hands with her own and gave him an optimistic smile.
“It’ll be okay, Kevin. Everything’s going to be just fine.” Smiling at his wife, he intertwined their fingers and stroked the top of her hand with his thumb. Crookedly standing up from the chair, he kissed her softly on the cheek. He sat down once again when the door to the office opened, revealing a grim-looking man.
“Dr. Reynolds, what is it?” she asked, watching as he sat down behind the desk uncomfortably. He rested his elbows on the desk and rested his head on his folded fists.
“T-Things don’t look good, Denise; not good at all.”
Forgive me for the words unsaid
Denise’s brother, Joshua, took his place at the head of the church. Clearing his throat and wiping a tear from his cheek, he looked at his nephews and brother-in-law with a hint of a smile on his face. Taking a folded piece of paper from the breast pocket of his suit, he opened it and read aloud.
“My sister was the kind of woman you never forget. She was always optimistic about things and never let anything bring her down. She was also such a kind soul. I remember when we were little, she wasn’t the stereotypical sister who pushed her younger brother down the stairs,” he chuckled lightly, the whole church matching his laughter. “She always helped me with my homework and whenever she could, she spent time with me. We would watch cartoons on Saturdays and ride our bicycles to the market.”
For the times
I forgot
Nicholas bit his lip, tears streaming down his face and hitting his chest heavily. His throat closed up as the sight of his beautiful mother filled his mind; her beautiful curly hair that she has passed down to him, her deep brown eyes that brightened his day, and her soft touch that used to soothe him during his worst days.
He wringed his hands together as the cool April air filled the church. The rain pitter-pattering against the roof matched his beating heart, the scent of rain enveloping him. He felt a tug at his side and he looked to his younger brother, Frankie.
“N-Nick? Why is it raining during Mama’s funnel?” Nick forced a smile, his six-year-old brother’s innocence making his heart shatter.
“You mean fune—funeral?” His brother nodded. “It’s raining, Frankie, because God’s crying.”
“Why’s God crying?”
“He’s sad.”
“But… why?”
“Because Mommy’s gone,” Nick whispered, his voice cracking as his tears freely cascaded down his cheeks.
“But shouldn’t he be happy?” Frankie asked innocently, gently rubbing Nick’s arm. Nick looked at him questioningly, truthfully wondering whether Frankie understood or not. Seeing the distraught look on his brother’s face, Frankie smiled. “He should be happy because she’s with him now.”
Mama remember all my life
“The breast cancer is back?” Denise asked, her voice barely above a whisper. The doctor nodded at her and she felt sick to her stomach. She sighed, looking at her husband giving him the best smile she could muster. Her heart sank knowing that sooner than she had hoped, she would no longer be able to see his face, nor the faces of her four sons.
“You will want to spend as much time with your family as you can, Denise. I don’t… I don’t see any possibility of improvement at this point.”
Crying the hardest he had ever cried in years, Kevin Jonas, Sr. looked his wife in the eye and tightened his hand around hers. His heart ached with the words of the doctor ringing in his ears. He couldn’t believe that his wife of nearly twenty years was sick. He would sell his soul for a cure for her in an instant if it meant she would live. He knew, however, that that was impossible.
You showed me love; you sacrificed
It was finally time for Denise’s oldest son, Kevin, to step up to the altar. He shakily stood to his feet, brushing off his pants as he walked up the steps to the podium. He turned to face the people before him; relatives from states away and friends from church. His body trembled as he took in a breath, his heart wrenching as he felt the presence of his mother’s soulless body merely two feet behind him.
Tapping meekly on the microphone, he laughed as a small sound of feedback came through the speakers. Digging in the front pocket of his pants, he pulled out an index card with his speech scrawled on one side of it. Writing it had probably been the most difficult thing for him to do because all the memories of his childhood had decided to reenter his mind.
“My mom,” he began with a tearless expression on his face, “was and forever will be the most important woman in my life. She taught me how to live and even more importantly, she taught me how to love. Her kind…” He stopped, feeling tears come to his eyes and his throat closing.
“Her kind heart proved to be the inspiration I always needed whenever I was feeling down. Her wise words always proved to be the best guidance I ever received. Her soft hands would wipe my tears away, her warm hugs would ease my broken heart, and her g-gentle voice soothed my insecurities. But now…”
His voice trailed off as he lay the card down on the podium. Setting his fist heavily on the podium, he brought his other hand to his face and cried as he looked at his mother lying lifelessly in her casket. Lined with light pink silk, her beautiful features were still evident. Picking up his feet slowly, he walked over to stand beside her. Brushing his finger over her cold hands, barely even touching them, he bit his lip.
Collapsing to his knees, he sobbed into the crook of his elbow; his mess of curls brushing against his arm. The entire church felt only a fraction of his pain, with the exception of his father and brothers in the pew below. Wiping his eyes and nose with the sleeve of his black polo, he looked at his mom with stinging eyes. Wrapping one of her curls around his index finger, he let out an indistinguishable sound.
“Mom,” he wept quietly, “who’s going to wipe my tears now? Who’s g-going to hug me when I’m hurting? I need you, Mom. We all need you here.”
Think of those young and early days
It had been the biggest rainstorm to hit Wyckoff, New Jersey in fifteen years. Five-year-old Joseph Jonas clutched his Barney plush tightly in his arms. Sniffling quietly, he shuddered as the thunder boomed overhead. He felt tears in his eyes and touched them innocently with his hand. The thunder became louder, scaring him out of bed.
“Mama!” he hollered as he stumbled down the carpeted stairs of his family’s small house. “I’m scared, Mama, hold me.” Jumping onto his mother’s lap as she sat on the couch, he trembled in her arms and she laughed. “Mommy, stop laughing!” his lip quivered as he spoke, “I’m scared, okay?!”
“Joseph, sweetheart,” she smiled, tickling him in the side and earning a giggle from her son, “you don’t have to be scared of the rain.”
“I like the rain!” he shouted over the thunder, taking a firm hold on her sweater sleeve. “It’s the sound I don’t like!”
Smiling at her son’s simplicity, she wrapped her arms around his small figure and hugged him tightly. Turning her head and looking over her shoulder, an idea came to mind. She picked him up and brought him into the kitchen, setting him awkwardly on the counter. Opening the freezer, she pulled out a box of instant chocolate chip cookie dough. Just as she was pulling a few cookie trays from the cupboard, Kevin Jr. walked into the kitchen.
“Mom, what are you guys doing?” he asked, scratching his eye with one hand and holding a game boy in the other. He looked at his brother sitting on the counter and he suddenly understood. “Is little Joe scared of the thunderstorm?” he taunted, poking Joe repeatedly in the stomach, earning a whine and a small punch from him. “Hey!”
“Boys,” she scolded. “Keep it down or you’re going to wake up your brother.”
“Nick?” Kevin asked, busying his hands with his game boy. “He’s been awake, watching Blue’s Clues in the den.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?! He could’ve—”
“Mama, I’ve been watching him, don’t worry,” Kevin grinned with his two front teeth missing and his glasses at the end of his nose. “Can we make cookies?”
“Of course,” she smiled.
Kevin jumped excitedly and ran to fetch his youngest brother. Baking cookies was his mother’s way of easing their fear and he always loved that about her. She had a way of making something so simple mean so much.
How I’ve changed
Along the way
Finding himself unable to speak anymore, Kevin excused himself back to the pew his brothers and father were seated on. Tapping Joseph on the shoulder, he signaled it was time for him to address the rest of the church. His cheeks were already stinging as tears had dried on them, but Joe managed to pick himself up and painfully walked up the steps leading to his mother’s casket. Kissing his hand and touching it to his mother’s cheek, he moved to the microphone by the podium.
“Um… everyone’s pretty much said what I wanted to say. What can you say about a woman who was perfect?” he asked, shrugging to make light of the situation. “You can only say so much to describe my mom, but it’ll never be enough. She was an amazing woman who loved life and loved people; she never let you forget it. Once you met her, you’d never forget her; that beautiful smile, that beautiful warmth about her. She may be ‘gone’, but she’ll always be in my heart.”
Joe nodded his head slowly, satisfied with his words. Walking over to his mother, he leant over and kissed her cheek.
“I love you, Mama,” he smiled. “You’ll always be here…” he tapped the area on his chest right above his heart. “… right here.”
And I know you believed
And I know you had dreams
“You… no… she can’t, Dad!”
“Kevin, there’s nothing they can do. The doctors have tried everything b—”
“They’ve done nothing!” Kevin yelled angrily, smacking his palm against the wall. “The d-doctors obviously haven’t tried hard enough if she’s… if she’s…”
“Please, sweetheart, don’t talk about me like I’m not even in the room,” Denise pleaded, her voice calm. “Sit down, Kevin.”
“How did this happen? When, how soon?”
“They’ve given me three months, Joseph,” she nodded.
“What?!” Nick screeched, his eyes searching his mother. “Th… Three months? How… what… why?”
“Sometimes this happens, Nicholas.”
“But not to you! You’re perfect, Mom.”
She smiled. “I am far from perfect, sweetheart. But God has bigger plans for me and as I told your father, I’ve accepted that. Instead of being angry, why don’t you just—”
“What, Mom? Accept it? Forgive God for taking you away from us?”
“Do not blame God for this, Kevin. And I’m still here; He hasn’t ‘taken me away’. Let’s enjoy the time I’m left with and not dwell on this little fact.”
Joe shook his head. “No, Mom. This isn’t just a ‘little fact’. You’re sick and we can’t do anything about it.”
“Love me, Joseph. That’s all I ask.”
And I’m sorry it took all this time to see
Nicholas paced back and forth in the living room. He found it harder and harder not to be angry with his mother. He clenched his fists and hit them against his thighs as he thought. Desperate to leave, he glared at his mother who in turn, stared him down.
“You can look at me like that all you want, Nicholas, but no thirteen-year-old son of mine is going to a high school party.” She continued stirring the penne sauce calmly, trying to ignore her son’s fierce looks.
“Joe’s going to be there, Mom. Why can’t I go?” Nick threw his arms in the air, unable to understand why his mother was being so unreasonable.
“I know what’s best for you and I know what happens at these parties. Had your father not convinced me, Joseph wouldn’t even be going to this party.”
“I can’t believe you,” Nick spat. “I hate you.” Stomping his foot on the tiled floor of the kitchen, he ran upstairs and slammed his door. Denise frowned, hating that her son was angry with her. Feeling a tug at her heart, she closed her eyes and let the tears fall.
That I am where I am because of your truth
I miss you, I miss you
Finished with what he had to say, Joe walked back down the steps and sat down in his seat. Nick took that as his sign to go on. Unfolding his fist once he got the podium, he unfurled a damp piece of binder paper that he had prepared that morning. Trying to read the scrawled writing on it, he instead crumpled it and stuffed it in his pocket. Folding up the sleeves of his button-up shirt to his elbows, he shook his head and leaned against the podium.
“I had this long speech ready for this moment, but I realized just now that you can never really prepare a speech to say at your mother’s f-funeral.” He wiped a stray tear and wringed his hands together. Letting out a soft laugh as a memory came to mind, he sighed. “In these fifteen years of my life, I could never ask for a better mom.” He stopped to sort through his thoughts.
“M-My mom had this funny way of making any bad situation into a good one. She always made a joke and somehow, that made it better. I can’t help but think that right now she’s up there bothering all the kid angels about cleaning up their rooms,” he laughed. Swallowing back a lump that had formed in his throat, his face fell and he found it harder to speak. “I’m never going to forget my mother. As much as I used to disagree with her disciplining, I now understand that she did have my best interests at heart and it’s only because she loves me.”
“I want to sing something for her because that’s what she’d want me to do. ‘Nicholas,’ she always told me, ‘use your voice for something good. You always make me smile when I hear your beautiful voice.’” Looking toward the ceiling, Nick smiled. “This one’s for you, Mom; I hope it makes you smile.”
“It’s not goodbye,
‘Cause I will remember you
And I will see you again
When I rise
‘Cause I know and I believe
I will see you in eternity…”
His voice had ended with a crack and tears began to spill down his face. Turning away from his friends and family, he looked at his mother with a heavy heart. “This isn’t goodbye, Mom,” he sobbed with a forced smile. “It’s just a ‘see you later’, okay? I love you.”
Mama forgive the times you cried
Forgive me for not making right
“I hate you!” Joseph cried, his face reddening and his fists tightened. “Why can’t you ever understand me?! I don’t want to talk about it!” Slamming his bedroom door, he lay down on his bed and set his pillow over his face. Denise rested herself against his door and tapped softly on the wood.
“Joseph, I’m just trying to help you—” She jumped, feeling the door ripped open and seeing her son’s face, fuming with anger.
“You really want to help? Stay out of my life!”
Shutting his door with a loud kick, she swallowed back tears. It pained her to see her son like that, especially when she was just trying to help him right a wrong.
All of the storms I may have caused
And I’ve been wrong
Dry your eyes
Denise took a look at her sons and waved them over so they would sit next to her on the couch. Feeling the weight shift as they took positions on either side of her, Frankie in her lap, she smiled.
“I need you boys to understand how much I love you; each and every one of you. I know this is hard to digest, but I’m sure you all will get through this. I’m going to be in your hearts and I never want you to forget me. You’ll be sad and that’s normal, but don’t be sad for long. Just know that I’ll be in a better place; you won’t have to worry about me.”
Kevin wrapped his arms around his mother, resting his head on her shoulder. “If it means you stay here, I’d rather worry about you.” Denise laughed, playing with the curls that went over his eyes.
“Sweetheart, you have to look at the brighter side of things.”
Nick scoffed. “My mom’s dying. What’s the bright side of that?” He got up and went upstairs, ignoring Joe’s calls.
“Give him time, Joseph,” Denise cooed, rubbing Joe’s back with her free hand. “It’s normal that he reacts like this.” They stayed in silence for a few minutes as the boys began to drift off to sleep.
“Are you scared, Mom?” Joe yawned, his eyelids becoming heavy. Denise soon felt him and her other sons fall asleep.
“Yes,” she sighed. “I am.”
Mama I hope this makes you smile
I hope you’re happy with my life
Kevin Sr. stood up and looked around, taking his cue from the minister to walk up to the stand. Taking a look at his wife lying in her casket, he bit his fist as tears made their way to his eyes. Breathing unevenly, his heart tore in two as he finally realized that his wife would no longer be by his side when he awoke in the morning; he would no longer see her bright face.
“Denise,” he said into the microphone, “was a woman who felt it was her duty to bring joy to the world, and she did just that. With a simple smile, a small hello, or the tiniest act of kindness, she made a person’s burdens seem miniscule. She was an amazing woman; a mother, a wife, a sister, a daughter, a friend. I thank her for the amazing twenty years she gave me; for our four sons and the wonderful house she built. Her memory will l-live in our hearts forever.”
At peace with every choice I made
How I’ve changed
Along the way
“Thank you for those who spoke,” Kevin Sr. nodded, putting his shaking hands together. “If there’s no one else who’ll come up, we’d like t—”
“Wait!” Everyone looked up and saw the tiniest hand in the air, belonging to Denise’s youngest son, Frankie. He jumped up from his seat and told his brothers to move their legs out of the way so he could inch his way out from between the pews. “I have something to say, Daddy!” he yelled, bounding up the steps and waving his hand in the air. The people in the church let out soft laughs and watched as Kevin Sr. positioned the microphone to Frankie’s height.
Everyone resettled in their seats and watched as Frankie stared blankly into space before he looked at the microphone.
“I was telling my brother, Nick,” he said slowly, his voice low, “that we shouldn’t be sad. I may only be seven, but I know that my mommy is in a better place. She used to tuck me in at night and sing me a lullaby, or read me a story. I won’t forget her voice and I won’t forget what she looks like, so I’ll always remember my mommy. Before she, um, d-died, she told me that I should never be sad. She pointed here…” Frankie lifted his finger and looked down at his chest, pointing at his heart, “and said that she would always be there. I don’t know how she’s going to do that, but I believe her.”
“She was so pretty and I love when she sang songs because it made me get goosey bumps on my arms. She also told me to tell my friends something.”
And I know you believed in all of my dreams
Frankie straightened out his jacket and all eyes were on him, waiting for the words that were going to escape his mouth. Even his brothers and father were on the edge of their seats.
“My mommy told me to tell you that you should always love your mommy. Mommies are what make the world go around and around and around. They can spank us, and yell, and get mad, and do stuff, but they’re the ones who, at the end of the night, tuck us in to sleep and say prayers for us. They make us dinner and buy us stuff. We should always thank our mommies because we never know when they’ll be gone. I love my mommy and that’s not going to change.”
Frankie hopped down the steps and sat down on his oldest brother’s lap, stunning him. The whole church was left silent as they dwelled on his words. Tears had been shed and memories had been brought up; smiles, frowns, and laughter was shared. Denise Miller Jonas was a woman who left a mark on people’s souls and hearts.
And I owe it all to you, Mama
The funeral had ended and the boys stood as the casket was lowered into the ground. They were no longer crying for their mother, but joyous for the time they were blessed with. They understood that they were molded by her love and her kindness. Thanks to her, her sons decided right then to live each day to the fullest and each night, prayed to God thanking Him for her. Everything they did, every choice they made, was somehow influenced by her. The unnecessary anger they used to feel—the adolescent “I hate you!”s and the “Stay out of my life!”s—were the result of what they now understood to be one woman’s undying love for them.
I love this story. 