Jeremy’s Rock

by Deb Jones

There is a time in everyone’s life when everything seems to come together like the pieces of a puzzle. We have to share the gift of our faith and of God’s love, and demonstrate how God even shows it  physically to us. In my case, it is a rock – a simple rock picked up off the ground and handed to me by my child. Big Deal? How many times do our kids give us rocks, leaves, bugs?? How many times have you missed the message God sent to you through a child? I know I have several times, I wasn’t always watching, or listening close enough.

Jeremy had been sick off and on that winter (everyone was sick with colds or flu). It was Wednesday, and we were walking down to John’s shop to get into the car. I took Jeremy to school each morning to St. Joe, then would drive to the Cleaner’s where I worked (they were only about 3 blocks apart at the most). This was just an ordinary day, like every other day, as far as I was concerned. Little did I know ..this would be our last day like this.

I remember Jeremy bent down and picked up a rock and handed it to me. I asked, “What’s this for ?”

One of us said “Something to hold on to”. Being a typical parent on a typical day, I put it on the seat between us, and forgot about it.

Jeremy stayed home from school the next day. He was not feeling well so I let him stay home. I did not leave until 8:30 and would be home at 11:00 for lunch. Pooh and Shawn would be in and out during the day. And John would be home by 3:45. No problems, just a typical day  in the lives of a typical family. That was Thursday, remember.

Jeremy had a restless night, I got up and sat with him during the night. At one point, he said, “Mommy, as tired as I am, you’ve got to be more tired.” I said, “Baby, when you go to sleep and get some rest, I’ll go to bed…” I covered  him with a quilt. We held hands and I said, “I love you, baby,” and he said, “I love you too, Mommy.”

I know I dozed a little later. I woke up when my chin hit my chest. I looked at Jeremy who looked like he he was sleeping peacefully and I went to bed. I looked at the alarm clock. It was 2:30. I get up in 3 hours to start my day for work. I went to sleep.

The next thing I remember was John’s voice, moaning and calling my name. I went into Jeremy’s bedroom. Our son had died in his sleep. My baby was gone from his body.

I will not go into all of details from the next few days. That is not the purpose for me to write this down today. I feel like I should move onto the next part, ok? Please bear with me?

Jeremy’s funeral was on Monday. It was painful, sad, and beautiful. There was so much love around us, yet each of us felt alone in our own thoughts and emotions. Grief does that to you.

We hugged a lot, cried buckets of tears, and moved deliberately step by step. I was afraid to stop, for fear I could not begin again if I lost momentum.

Pooh and I went to do some errands on Tuesday. This was the first time I had driven my car since Thursday. I put my hand down to fasten the seat belt, and my hand touched “The Rock”. The words “something to hold onto” held a different meaning this day. I carry that rock with me now always.

Sometimes it is in my pocket, sometimes it is in my purse, but it is always with me somewhere. John picked upon the rock, but never knew the story in the beginning. He went up on our roof to get one of the rocks that Jeremy used to knock up there with a tennis racket… John still carries his rock in his pocket every day.

A plain ordinary rock…like the ones we see every day…but we ignore. We just cannot always see the  meaning in all the little signs that we are given every day. We get too busy in living our crazy lives, and we miss the things that God has given to us. “His Love is the Solid Rock” that we should “Hold On To”…and never set it down.

Now I am asking each of you to pick up a rock, keep it for yourself, or give it away to some one who needs to be encouraged. Tell them it is a gift from God, through the heart of a child. Then pass on Jeremy’s story and what he told me with his rock. We never know if it might be our last chance to make a difference in their lives — or in our own life.

Hold onto the Rock! Peace be with you always, Debbie.

Written Sept 27, 2006

Submitted to Alive in Memory by Deb Jones in loving memory of her son, Jeremy.