JENNA'S POV:
Being a child of ever so popular rockstars was amazing. They raised me to grow up and follow my dreams. You couldn't ask for better parents than Hayley and Joshua Farro. My mom and dad, my helpers, and the people that have guided me throughout high school and beyond, along with my four other siblings, were the world's greatest parents. I'm eldest, 57 years old to be exact. Next is 55 year old Brynn, then 53 year old Hannah, then 52 year old Jake and 8 year old Maybell. Maybell was a beautiful little girl that we adopted into this family, despite the fact that mom was a bit too old to take care of her when she came.
In fact, mother relied on me to keep an eye and take care of Maybell. I definitely was dependable in that department. Ever since Maybell was a little baby, I've been the one changing her diapers. We adopted her since she was just so helpess. The rest of my siblings have been helpers to me, regularly keeping this family together.
I guess Brynn was the most helpful with keeping things under control. She was a motherly figure in her own way, growing up to be more like my father, Josh, inheriting his same soft brown eyes and brown hair. She had that Italian aura to her, as well. Brynn had her own family, marrying a nice young man named Landon and having three children with him. Mom loved Brynn's children, her eldest, Bailey, in particular. Bailey was 25 years old now, and still in the music industry with her own energetic rock band. She was very inspired by her grandmother (that being my mother) to start her own band, and they had won a Grammy and various awards ever since they started out. Bailey was my mother's grandchild and she made her proud.
My third sister, Hannah, was more like mom: fiesty, energetic, and she had a wonderful voice, and during high school she had won so many awards in choir and singing in general. She had bright red hair like my mom in high school, and still had a fading, now auburn color in her hair today. She married as well, having five children, most of which were now in college and one in medical school, pursuing a job in the medical field.
Jake, the shy, sweet only boy in the family with big, brown eyes was always the little sweetie that we could all count on. He was the second to youngest, 52 years old right now, and looked a lot like my dad. His wife was a beatiful Tennessee native named Jamie who inherited the Farro last name and gave birth to twin girls, whom she named Hayley and Ginger. She then gave birth to another baby boy who she named Joshua. He would be Josh Farro II, which was pretty cool. Jake's wife was very much inspired by my parents and did a great tribute by naming her children after my parents.
And that was basically our family, five children and two parents who managed to survive with us there. I smiled at all of them, all of us sitting patiently in the waiting room of this hospital. Jake's children were playing around with some of the hospital's toys and Maybell gladly joined them. Brynn, Hannah and I sat here, tension building in our bodies. I could tell.
I gripped Brynn's hand, and she gripped mine just as hard. Her husband, Landon, sat there beside her, and her children were there as well. In fact, the entire 2nd and 3rd generation of the Farro family filled up this hospital.
And I couldn't complain. I needed them here. I needed them more than I needed myself right now.
Tonight mom had a stroke.
It hurt so much--like pins and needles being stuck into my chest--seeing my own mother, the strong, feisty Hayley Williams, being pulled onto the stretcher and rushed to the hospital. Everything was a blur, a mess of the red and blue police lights that flickered on and off and still rang bright inside my head--those events happened so fast, and now we ended up here in a hospital waiting room.
I wish I had spoken up. I knew mom wasn't feeling well--I should have spoken to dad.
But that would have worried him.
The anxiety was ready to consume me. I gripped Brynn's hand tighter.
Sitting here, waiting here in the hospital, was heartbreaking. We had no clue what was going on upstairs. We just had to sit.
Sit and wait.
I am finding out that maybe I was wrong. I have fallen down, and I can't do this alone.
JOSH'S POV:
I remembered every detail, despite the fact it all happened so fast. They rushed her into the hospital room, doctors in their uniforms and lab coats blocking the way to Hayley. She was still and they forbid me to see her. A intern pushed me over to the side, knowing I was an old grandpa who probably couldn't fight back a young man like him; but I wouldn't let this intern get in the way. I needed to be by Hayley's side. "Sir," that boy said, his hand tightly gripped on my wrist, "I'm afraid you can't--"
"Look sonny," I began, having a weird obsession to the word 'sonny' that I called almost every young man I see that (it must have come with the old age), "I've been with her for over 50 years, and I've never left her side since. Don't think I'll be leaving her side tonight."
They let me stay with Hayley. I held onto her hand, until after only what felt like a short while, the doctors tried to disassuade me. "Look," I began again, after they tried to convince me that Hayley couldn't see or feel me because she was unconsious. "I'm holding on to her hand--see?" I held Hayley's hand up softly. "If you want me to let go, you're going to have to chop my hand off."
They nodded, understanding, and let me stay with her. They asked me to put on a mask and a gown however, asking me to stand to the side after I insisted that I not leave the room. I knew this wasn't allowed, but I just had to stay with her. Whatever would happen to Hayley, I would be there with her, helping her through it, and I did not plan on leaving her side.
Stay with me, this is what I need. Please.
BRYNN'S POV:
A doctor came by, calling only Jenna to go over to the side, and in a matter of seconds her mouth was cupped over her hand and she erupted into sobs.
I got up on my feet.
"Jenna," I whispered, hugging her, letting her cry about what I knew had happened. Her tears left a stain on my shoulders, and soon my own tears were falling down my cheeks. "Mom is..she's..." Jenna silently sobbed in between sniffles, burying her face into my shoulder. My sister, so strong a girl, felt completely weak as I held her there.
Hannah came over and knew what was going on, also. Maybell, playing on the sidelines, hadn't a clue. Jake stayed as a babysitter to his children, but soon eough, Hannah came to go tell him the news, being careful to whisper it low enough that it didn't alarm anyone else. And he didn't hold back a tear. He exploded in her arms, weak, and she held him there. As soon as I let Jenna go and let her cry in her husband's arms, I fell apart in Landon's arms myself. My husband gripped my sides tightly and cried along with me, rubbing my back in a sweet gesture that was supposed to be comforting but barely gave me an ounce of the comfort. My children were sitting in the hospital in an awkward silence, not knowing how exactly to react to something like this.
What was even worse was seeing the doctor just standing there. He was silent, grim, even--and he didn't seem to have an ounce of care over what we were feeling. A deep set, heavy shock lodged itself into my chest.
I couldn't breathe. I could distincly make out the vague "I'll give you all a minute" that the doctor mumbled to us all. Landon continued to hold me.
I am nothing now, and it's been so long.
HAYLEY'S POV:
There was light. It was very bright, calling to me, but something grabbed my hand all of a sudden. "Josh?" I asked, smiling to my husband who stood beside me, the glimmering image of youth and beauty. He was here. But why? How was he here? He was supposed to be beside me somewhere down on Earth, not up in the sky like this.
"It's time, Hayles," he replied, returning my smile with one of his own. It was a hopeful smile, a smile that gave me courage to continue into the light. It felt as if I had fallen in love all over again. Like we had fallen in love all over again. But this time, there was no pain, no sadness...just a contentment that I couldn't describe. Together, hand in hand, we walked toward the light.
Since I've heard a sound, the sound of my only hope. This time, I will be listening.
HANNAH'S POV:
We found both mom and dad, pale, yet with a golden almost glowing hue to them, together on the hospital bed around 3 'o clock AM in the morning. Had it not been for their pale, motionless bodies--I would have tried convincing myself that they were still alive.
It had been 60 years that they were together, and I only wished that they could spend 60 more. But life was life, and this was how it was. Tears were still welling up in my eyes as I looked over the bodies. So still, so peaceful--on dad's face there was a hint of a smile, and on mom's there was definitely an expression that I wasn't sure how to decode. She looked happy. Her mouth was twitched upwards. And she was beautiful.
I knew that wherever they were, mom and dad were together, and they were safe and...well, home. I smiled at both their bodies, though it wasn't supposed to bring a smile to my face, it did. They went peacefully, in the quiet, together. It was almost the most perfect, pure love story. They had lived as best as they could and passed on together.
Jenna was still crying, her sobs filling the room. She sat beside their hospital bed, her hand gripping tightly on mom's. Brynn did her best trying to calm her down. I couldn't. I wasn't very good at that stuff, anyways. I just stood there, Maybell tugging on my pants, impatiently asking me what was going on. I brought her outside, got her cookies from a nice nurse who so nicely offered me some, and sat her down on a bench.
"May," I began, taking a deep breath as I kneeled on my knees to get on eye-level with her. "Mom and dad have gone...somewhere."
"Where'd they go?" she asked immediately.
"They went to a better place, I'll tell you that." It took all my strength to not break down in front of her. I clasped onto Maybell's little hand for support--the reality that my mother was gone was still sinking in on me. It was still a shock--and trying to explain to Maybell made coming to terms so much harder.
Maybell smiled at me. "As long as they're okay. They are okay, right?"
"Yes, they are very okay," I answered.
"Will I see her soon?"
I willed my heart to not shatter--for my tears to not spill. I couldn't let her see me like that. I swallowed up the sob that was threatening to erupt and grabbed Maybell's hand tighter. "You will, May. You will."
She silently chewed on her cookie. Then she did something I didn't expect--she reached out her little hand and stroked me on the cheek. "I want to see mommy."
I grabbed her in my arms and hugged her tightly, giving in and letting one single tear drop from my face, wiping it as quickly as it came. I pulled away and looked Maybell right in her little eyes. "Come on, we have to go back." My voice had just barely cracked. I took a deep breath and swallowed hard. "Finish those cookies."
One week later..
I smiled up at the sky as I began my song for them. It was their song, and they were listening right now, wherever they were. I had convinced myself that much.
I sang the beginning verses of My Heart for my mom and dad, no one else. I could vaguely recall the first time she told me the story of how dad played it for her back when they were seniors in high school, up on a hill in Tennessee. I couldn't help but cry as I got into the chorus--it was overwhelming, the amount of passion inside this song, and as I came to terms with the fact that I would never see my parents again, I simply broke out in the middle of it all.
I rushed off the stage mid-sentence into the chorus and just cried. With my back against a wall, as if it was some sort of support for me, I let it out. They were gone.
My parents were gone.
And knowing that gave me a feeling of such low, painful sorrow.
Like this hole was in my chest--
like it was being cut with rough, serrated edges.
Please don't go now, please don't fade away.
JENNA'S POV:
After walking out of the funeral, I took a moment and observed the world. Everyone was going on with their normal lives.
I just wanted to scream at them, telling them what happened to us.
How could they be so happy and normal when the most heartbreaking thing just happened to us? How?
I knew it was stupid, my thoughts, because nobody really knew about the situation and I was being too selfish. I wanted everyone to feel what I was feeling, I wanted them to know what's been going on.
But I couldn't just do that. No. I had to move on, no matter how hard. I had to continue with life, because that's what mom wanted me to do. Dad would have wanted it, to.
They told me to live life without regrets--
and that was what I planned to do.
They did not want me to become a hunched up shell inside a house and be refrained from the world. Mom lived a full life. She fell in love, and she taught me how to fall in love, too. She taught me we would fall, that we would be put into fights, that life would throw obstacles our way that sometimes seemed so unmovable, so permanent.
But we'd fall, and we'd get back up.
She got back up, and she had dad.
And I had this life with me--a blessing. Each day was a blessing, each day was a gift, and it didn't matter how famous we were, or how much money we had, or how much we were noticed or accomplished or acknowledged. Those were the little things.
All that mattered was I was here, and I was surrounded with something so much greater than life--that was love. I was taught to appreciate what I had. And I had people who loved me more than I loved myself. And I appreciated that.
This death--it was all natural. I had a lot more in front of me. I had people to take care of, too. And no matter how much people would try to convince me it wasn't true--I had mom and dad with me. They were still here, because they were in my heart. And people don't really die if they still live inside of you.
The more I clasped onto the thought, the more a simple smile had cracked onto my lips. They were watching over me. Over us.
I took my husband's hand and watched as our children walked in front of us, all grown, all living the beautiful gift that was life. And I smiled.
Sing us a song, and we'll sing it back to you.
We could sing our own, but what would it be without you?
This heart, it beats, beats for only you.
My heart is yours.
Being a child of ever so popular rockstars was amazing. They raised me to grow up and follow my dreams. You couldn't ask for better parents than Hayley and Joshua Farro. My mom and dad, my helpers, and the people that have guided me throughout high school and beyond, along with my four other siblings, were the world's greatest parents. I'm eldest, 57 years old to be exact. Next is 55 year old Brynn, then 53 year old Hannah, then 52 year old Jake and 8 year old Maybell. Maybell was a beautiful little girl that we adopted into this family, despite the fact that mom was a bit too old to take care of her when she came.
In fact, mother relied on me to keep an eye and take care of Maybell. I definitely was dependable in that department. Ever since Maybell was a little baby, I've been the one changing her diapers. We adopted her since she was just so helpess. The rest of my siblings have been helpers to me, regularly keeping this family together.
I guess Brynn was the most helpful with keeping things under control. She was a motherly figure in her own way, growing up to be more like my father, Josh, inheriting his same soft brown eyes and brown hair. She had that Italian aura to her, as well. Brynn had her own family, marrying a nice young man named Landon and having three children with him. Mom loved Brynn's children, her eldest, Bailey, in particular. Bailey was 25 years old now, and still in the music industry with her own energetic rock band. She was very inspired by her grandmother (that being my mother) to start her own band, and they had won a Grammy and various awards ever since they started out. Bailey was my mother's grandchild and she made her proud.
My third sister, Hannah, was more like mom: fiesty, energetic, and she had a wonderful voice, and during high school she had won so many awards in choir and singing in general. She had bright red hair like my mom in high school, and still had a fading, now auburn color in her hair today. She married as well, having five children, most of which were now in college and one in medical school, pursuing a job in the medical field.
Jake, the shy, sweet only boy in the family with big, brown eyes was always the little sweetie that we could all count on. He was the second to youngest, 52 years old right now, and looked a lot like my dad. His wife was a beatiful Tennessee native named Jamie who inherited the Farro last name and gave birth to twin girls, whom she named Hayley and Ginger. She then gave birth to another baby boy who she named Joshua. He would be Josh Farro II, which was pretty cool. Jake's wife was very much inspired by my parents and did a great tribute by naming her children after my parents.
And that was basically our family, five children and two parents who managed to survive with us there. I smiled at all of them, all of us sitting patiently in the waiting room of this hospital. Jake's children were playing around with some of the hospital's toys and Maybell gladly joined them. Brynn, Hannah and I sat here, tension building in our bodies. I could tell.
I gripped Brynn's hand, and she gripped mine just as hard. Her husband, Landon, sat there beside her, and her children were there as well. In fact, the entire 2nd and 3rd generation of the Farro family filled up this hospital.
And I couldn't complain. I needed them here. I needed them more than I needed myself right now.
Tonight mom had a stroke.
It hurt so much--like pins and needles being stuck into my chest--seeing my own mother, the strong, feisty Hayley Williams, being pulled onto the stretcher and rushed to the hospital. Everything was a blur, a mess of the red and blue police lights that flickered on and off and still rang bright inside my head--those events happened so fast, and now we ended up here in a hospital waiting room.
I wish I had spoken up. I knew mom wasn't feeling well--I should have spoken to dad.
But that would have worried him.
The anxiety was ready to consume me. I gripped Brynn's hand tighter.
Sitting here, waiting here in the hospital, was heartbreaking. We had no clue what was going on upstairs. We just had to sit.
Sit and wait.
I am finding out that maybe I was wrong. I have fallen down, and I can't do this alone.
JOSH'S POV:
I remembered every detail, despite the fact it all happened so fast. They rushed her into the hospital room, doctors in their uniforms and lab coats blocking the way to Hayley. She was still and they forbid me to see her. A intern pushed me over to the side, knowing I was an old grandpa who probably couldn't fight back a young man like him; but I wouldn't let this intern get in the way. I needed to be by Hayley's side. "Sir," that boy said, his hand tightly gripped on my wrist, "I'm afraid you can't--"
"Look sonny," I began, having a weird obsession to the word 'sonny' that I called almost every young man I see that (it must have come with the old age), "I've been with her for over 50 years, and I've never left her side since. Don't think I'll be leaving her side tonight."
They let me stay with Hayley. I held onto her hand, until after only what felt like a short while, the doctors tried to disassuade me. "Look," I began again, after they tried to convince me that Hayley couldn't see or feel me because she was unconsious. "I'm holding on to her hand--see?" I held Hayley's hand up softly. "If you want me to let go, you're going to have to chop my hand off."
They nodded, understanding, and let me stay with her. They asked me to put on a mask and a gown however, asking me to stand to the side after I insisted that I not leave the room. I knew this wasn't allowed, but I just had to stay with her. Whatever would happen to Hayley, I would be there with her, helping her through it, and I did not plan on leaving her side.
Stay with me, this is what I need. Please.
BRYNN'S POV:
A doctor came by, calling only Jenna to go over to the side, and in a matter of seconds her mouth was cupped over her hand and she erupted into sobs.
I got up on my feet.
"Jenna," I whispered, hugging her, letting her cry about what I knew had happened. Her tears left a stain on my shoulders, and soon my own tears were falling down my cheeks. "Mom is..she's..." Jenna silently sobbed in between sniffles, burying her face into my shoulder. My sister, so strong a girl, felt completely weak as I held her there.
Hannah came over and knew what was going on, also. Maybell, playing on the sidelines, hadn't a clue. Jake stayed as a babysitter to his children, but soon eough, Hannah came to go tell him the news, being careful to whisper it low enough that it didn't alarm anyone else. And he didn't hold back a tear. He exploded in her arms, weak, and she held him there. As soon as I let Jenna go and let her cry in her husband's arms, I fell apart in Landon's arms myself. My husband gripped my sides tightly and cried along with me, rubbing my back in a sweet gesture that was supposed to be comforting but barely gave me an ounce of the comfort. My children were sitting in the hospital in an awkward silence, not knowing how exactly to react to something like this.
What was even worse was seeing the doctor just standing there. He was silent, grim, even--and he didn't seem to have an ounce of care over what we were feeling. A deep set, heavy shock lodged itself into my chest.
I couldn't breathe. I could distincly make out the vague "I'll give you all a minute" that the doctor mumbled to us all. Landon continued to hold me.
I am nothing now, and it's been so long.
HAYLEY'S POV:
There was light. It was very bright, calling to me, but something grabbed my hand all of a sudden. "Josh?" I asked, smiling to my husband who stood beside me, the glimmering image of youth and beauty. He was here. But why? How was he here? He was supposed to be beside me somewhere down on Earth, not up in the sky like this.
"It's time, Hayles," he replied, returning my smile with one of his own. It was a hopeful smile, a smile that gave me courage to continue into the light. It felt as if I had fallen in love all over again. Like we had fallen in love all over again. But this time, there was no pain, no sadness...just a contentment that I couldn't describe. Together, hand in hand, we walked toward the light.
Since I've heard a sound, the sound of my only hope. This time, I will be listening.
HANNAH'S POV:
We found both mom and dad, pale, yet with a golden almost glowing hue to them, together on the hospital bed around 3 'o clock AM in the morning. Had it not been for their pale, motionless bodies--I would have tried convincing myself that they were still alive.
It had been 60 years that they were together, and I only wished that they could spend 60 more. But life was life, and this was how it was. Tears were still welling up in my eyes as I looked over the bodies. So still, so peaceful--on dad's face there was a hint of a smile, and on mom's there was definitely an expression that I wasn't sure how to decode. She looked happy. Her mouth was twitched upwards. And she was beautiful.
I knew that wherever they were, mom and dad were together, and they were safe and...well, home. I smiled at both their bodies, though it wasn't supposed to bring a smile to my face, it did. They went peacefully, in the quiet, together. It was almost the most perfect, pure love story. They had lived as best as they could and passed on together.
Jenna was still crying, her sobs filling the room. She sat beside their hospital bed, her hand gripping tightly on mom's. Brynn did her best trying to calm her down. I couldn't. I wasn't very good at that stuff, anyways. I just stood there, Maybell tugging on my pants, impatiently asking me what was going on. I brought her outside, got her cookies from a nice nurse who so nicely offered me some, and sat her down on a bench.
"May," I began, taking a deep breath as I kneeled on my knees to get on eye-level with her. "Mom and dad have gone...somewhere."
"Where'd they go?" she asked immediately.
"They went to a better place, I'll tell you that." It took all my strength to not break down in front of her. I clasped onto Maybell's little hand for support--the reality that my mother was gone was still sinking in on me. It was still a shock--and trying to explain to Maybell made coming to terms so much harder.
Maybell smiled at me. "As long as they're okay. They are okay, right?"
"Yes, they are very okay," I answered.
"Will I see her soon?"
I willed my heart to not shatter--for my tears to not spill. I couldn't let her see me like that. I swallowed up the sob that was threatening to erupt and grabbed Maybell's hand tighter. "You will, May. You will."
She silently chewed on her cookie. Then she did something I didn't expect--she reached out her little hand and stroked me on the cheek. "I want to see mommy."
I grabbed her in my arms and hugged her tightly, giving in and letting one single tear drop from my face, wiping it as quickly as it came. I pulled away and looked Maybell right in her little eyes. "Come on, we have to go back." My voice had just barely cracked. I took a deep breath and swallowed hard. "Finish those cookies."
One week later..
I smiled up at the sky as I began my song for them. It was their song, and they were listening right now, wherever they were. I had convinced myself that much.
I sang the beginning verses of My Heart for my mom and dad, no one else. I could vaguely recall the first time she told me the story of how dad played it for her back when they were seniors in high school, up on a hill in Tennessee. I couldn't help but cry as I got into the chorus--it was overwhelming, the amount of passion inside this song, and as I came to terms with the fact that I would never see my parents again, I simply broke out in the middle of it all.
I rushed off the stage mid-sentence into the chorus and just cried. With my back against a wall, as if it was some sort of support for me, I let it out. They were gone.
My parents were gone.
And knowing that gave me a feeling of such low, painful sorrow.
Like this hole was in my chest--
like it was being cut with rough, serrated edges.
Please don't go now, please don't fade away.
JENNA'S POV:
After walking out of the funeral, I took a moment and observed the world. Everyone was going on with their normal lives.
I just wanted to scream at them, telling them what happened to us.
How could they be so happy and normal when the most heartbreaking thing just happened to us? How?
I knew it was stupid, my thoughts, because nobody really knew about the situation and I was being too selfish. I wanted everyone to feel what I was feeling, I wanted them to know what's been going on.
But I couldn't just do that. No. I had to move on, no matter how hard. I had to continue with life, because that's what mom wanted me to do. Dad would have wanted it, to.
They told me to live life without regrets--
and that was what I planned to do.
They did not want me to become a hunched up shell inside a house and be refrained from the world. Mom lived a full life. She fell in love, and she taught me how to fall in love, too. She taught me we would fall, that we would be put into fights, that life would throw obstacles our way that sometimes seemed so unmovable, so permanent.
But we'd fall, and we'd get back up.
She got back up, and she had dad.
And I had this life with me--a blessing. Each day was a blessing, each day was a gift, and it didn't matter how famous we were, or how much money we had, or how much we were noticed or accomplished or acknowledged. Those were the little things.
All that mattered was I was here, and I was surrounded with something so much greater than life--that was love. I was taught to appreciate what I had. And I had people who loved me more than I loved myself. And I appreciated that.
This death--it was all natural. I had a lot more in front of me. I had people to take care of, too. And no matter how much people would try to convince me it wasn't true--I had mom and dad with me. They were still here, because they were in my heart. And people don't really die if they still live inside of you.
The more I clasped onto the thought, the more a simple smile had cracked onto my lips. They were watching over me. Over us.
I took my husband's hand and watched as our children walked in front of us, all grown, all living the beautiful gift that was life. And I smiled.
Sing us a song, and we'll sing it back to you.
We could sing our own, but what would it be without you?
This heart, it beats, beats for only you.
My heart is yours.
JENNA'S POV:
Being a child of ever so popular rockstars was amazing. They raised me to grow up and follow my dreams. You couldn't ask for better parents than Hayley and Joshua Farro. My mom and dad, my helpers, and the people that have guided me throughout high school and beyond, along with my four other siblings, were the world's greatest parents. I'm eldest, 57 years old to be exact. Next is 55 year old Brynn, then 53 year old Hannah, then 52 year old Jake and 8 year old Maybell. Maybell was a beautiful little girl that we adopted into this family, despite the fact that mom was a bit too old to take care of her when she came.
In fact, mother relied on me to keep an eye and take care of Maybell. I definitely was dependable in that department. Ever since Maybell was a little baby, I've been the one changing her diapers. We adopted her since she was just so helpess. The rest of my siblings have been helpers to me, regularly keeping this family together.
I guess Brynn was the most helpful with keeping things under control. She was a motherly figure in her own way, growing up to be more like my father, Josh, inheriting his same soft brown eyes and brown hair. She had that Italian aura to her, as well. Brynn had her own family, marrying a nice young man named Landon and having three children with him. Mom loved Brynn's children, her eldest, Bailey, in particular. Bailey was 25 years old now, and still in the music industry with her own energetic rock band. She was very inspired by her grandmother (that being my mother) to start her own band, and they had won a Grammy and various awards ever since they started out. Bailey was my mother's grandchild and she made her proud.
My third sister, Hannah, was more like mom: fiesty, energetic, and she had a wonderful voice, and during high school she had won so many awards in choir and singing in general. She had bright red hair like my mom in high school, and still had a fading, now auburn color in her hair today. She married as well, having five children, most of which were now in college and one in medical school, pursuing a job in the medical field.
Jake, the shy, sweet only boy in the family with big, brown eyes was always the little sweetie that we could all count on. He was the second to youngest, 52 years old right now, and looked a lot like my dad. His wife was a beatiful Tennessee native named Jamie who inherited the Farro last name and gave birth to twin girls, whom she named Hayley and Ginger. She then gave birth to another baby boy who she named Joshua. He would be Josh Farro II, which was pretty cool. Jake's wife was very much inspired by my parents and did a great tribute by naming her children after my parents.
And that was basically our family, five children and two parents who managed to survive with us there. I smiled at all of them, all of us sitting patiently in the waiting room of this hospital. Jake's children were playing around with some of the hospital's toys and Maybell gladly joined them. Brynn, Hannah and I sat here, tension building in our bodies. I could tell.
I gripped Brynn's hand, and she gripped mine just as hard. Her husband, Landon, sat there beside her, and her children were there as well. In fact, the entire 2nd and 3rd generation of the Farro family filled up this hospital.
And I couldn't complain. I needed them here. I needed them more than I needed myself right now.
Tonight mom had a stroke.
It hurt so much--like pins and needles being stuck into my chest--seeing my own mother, the strong, feisty Hayley Williams, being pulled onto the stretcher and rushed to the hospital. Everything was a blur, a mess of the red and blue police lights that flickered on and off and still rang bright inside my head--those events happened so fast, and now we ended up here in a hospital waiting room.
I wish I had spoken up. I knew mom wasn't feeling well--I should have spoken to dad.
But that would have worried him.
The anxiety was ready to consume me. I gripped Brynn's hand tighter.
Sitting here, waiting here in the hospital, was heartbreaking. We had no clue what was going on upstairs. We just had to sit.
Sit and wait.
I am finding out that maybe I was wrong. I have fallen down, and I can't do this alone.
JOSH'S POV:
I remembered every detail, despite the fact it all happened so fast. They rushed her into the hospital room, doctors in their uniforms and lab coats blocking the way to Hayley. She was still and they forbid me to see her. A intern pushed me over to the side, knowing I was an old grandpa who probably couldn't fight back a young man like him; but I wouldn't let this intern get in the way. I needed to be by Hayley's side. "Sir," that boy said, his hand tightly gripped on my wrist, "I'm afraid you can't--"
"Look sonny," I began, having a weird obsession to the word 'sonny' that I called almost every young man I see that (it must have come with the old age), "I've been with her for over 50 years, and I've never left her side since. Don't think I'll be leaving her side tonight."
They let me stay with Hayley. I held onto her hand, until after only what felt like a short while, the doctors tried to disassuade me. "Look," I began again, after they tried to convince me that Hayley couldn't see or feel me because she was unconsious. "I'm holding on to her hand--see?" I held Hayley's hand up softly. "If you want me to let go, you're going to have to chop my hand off."
They nodded, understanding, and let me stay with her. They asked me to put on a mask and a gown however, asking me to stand to the side after I insisted that I not leave the room. I knew this wasn't allowed, but I just had to stay with her. Whatever would happen to Hayley, I would be there with her, helping her through it, and I did not plan on leaving her side.
Stay with me, this is what I need. Please.
BRYNN'S POV:
A doctor came by, calling only Jenna to go over to the side, and in a matter of seconds her mouth was cupped over her hand and she erupted into sobs.
I got up on my feet.
"Jenna," I whispered, hugging her, letting her cry about what I knew had happened. Her tears left a stain on my shoulders, and soon my own tears were falling down my cheeks. "Mom is..she's..." Jenna silently sobbed in between sniffles, burying her face into my shoulder. My sister, so strong a girl, felt completely weak as I held her there.
Hannah came over and knew what was going on, also. Maybell, playing on the sidelines, hadn't a clue. Jake stayed as a babysitter to his children, but soon eough, Hannah came to go tell him the news, being careful to whisper it low enough that it didn't alarm anyone else. And he didn't hold back a tear. He exploded in her arms, weak, and she held him there. As soon as I let Jenna go and let her cry in her husband's arms, I fell apart in Landon's arms myself. My husband gripped my sides tightly and cried along with me, rubbing my back in a sweet gesture that was supposed to be comforting but barely gave me an ounce of the comfort. My children were sitting in the hospital in an awkward silence, not knowing how exactly to react to something like this.
What was even worse was seeing the doctor just standing there. He was silent, grim, even--and he didn't seem to have an ounce of care over what we were feeling. A deep set, heavy shock lodged itself into my chest.
I couldn't breathe. I could distincly make out the vague "I'll give you all a minute" that the doctor mumbled to us all. Landon continued to hold me.
I am nothing now, and it's been so long.
HAYLEY'S POV:
There was light. It was very bright, calling to me, but something grabbed my hand all of a sudden. "Josh?" I asked, smiling to my husband who stood beside me, the glimmering image of youth and beauty. He was here. But why? How was he here? He was supposed to be beside me somewhere down on Earth, not up in the sky like this.
"It's time, Hayles," he replied, returning my smile with one of his own. It was a hopeful smile, a smile that gave me courage to continue into the light. It felt as if I had fallen in love all over again. Like we had fallen in love all over again. But this time, there was no pain, no sadness...just a contentment that I couldn't describe. Together, hand in hand, we walked toward the light.
Since I've heard a sound, the sound of my only hope. This time, I will be listening.
HANNAH'S POV:
We found both mom and dad, pale, yet with a golden almost glowing hue to them, together on the hospital bed around 3 'o clock AM in the morning. Had it not been for their pale, motionless bodies--I would have tried convincing myself that they were still alive.
It had been 60 years that they were together, and I only wished that they could spend 60 more. But life was life, and this was how it was. Tears were still welling up in my eyes as I looked over the bodies. So still, so peaceful--on dad's face there was a hint of a smile, and on mom's there was definitely an expression that I wasn't sure how to decode. She looked happy. Her mouth was twitched upwards. And she was beautiful.
I knew that wherever they were, mom and dad were together, and they were safe and...well, home. I smiled at both their bodies, though it wasn't supposed to bring a smile to my face, it did. They went peacefully, in the quiet, together. It was almost the most perfect, pure love story. They had lived as best as they could and passed on together.
Jenna was still crying, her sobs filling the room. She sat beside their hospital bed, her hand gripping tightly on mom's. Brynn did her best trying to calm her down. I couldn't. I wasn't very good at that stuff, anyways. I just stood there, Maybell tugging on my pants, impatiently asking me what was going on. I brought her outside, got her cookies from a nice nurse who so nicely offered me some, and sat her down on a bench.
"May," I began, taking a deep breath as I kneeled on my knees to get on eye-level with her. "Mom and dad have gone...somewhere."
"Where'd they go?" she asked immediately.
"They went to a better place, I'll tell you that." It took all my strength to not break down in front of her. I clasped onto Maybell's little hand for support--the reality that my mother was gone was still sinking in on me. It was still a shock--and trying to explain to Maybell made coming to terms so much harder.
Maybell smiled at me. "As long as they're okay. They are okay, right?"
"Yes, they are very okay," I answered.
"Will I see her soon?"
I willed my heart to not shatter--for my tears to not spill. I couldn't let her see me like that. I swallowed up the sob that was threatening to erupt and grabbed Maybell's hand tighter. "You will, May. You will."
She silently chewed on her cookie. Then she did something I didn't expect--she reached out her little hand and stroked me on the cheek. "I want to see mommy."
I grabbed her in my arms and hugged her tightly, giving in and letting one single tear drop from my face, wiping it as quickly as it came. I pulled away and looked Maybell right in her little eyes. "Come on, we have to go back." My voice had just barely cracked. I took a deep breath and swallowed hard. "Finish those cookies."
One week later..
I smiled up at the sky as I began my song for them. It was their song, and they were listening right now, wherever they were. I had convinced myself that much.
I sang the beginning verses of My Heart for my mom and dad, no one else. I could vaguely recall the first time she told me the story of how dad played it for her back when they were seniors in high school, up on a hill in Tennessee. I couldn't help but cry as I got into the chorus--it was overwhelming, the amount of passion inside this song, and as I came to terms with the fact that I would never see my parents again, I simply broke out in the middle of it all.
I rushed off the stage mid-sentence into the chorus and just cried. With my back against a wall, as if it was some sort of support for me, I let it out. They were gone.
My parents were gone.
And knowing that gave me a feeling of such low, painful sorrow.
Like this hole was in my chest--
like it was being cut with rough, serrated edges.
Please don't go now, please don't fade away.
JENNA'S POV:
After walking out of the funeral, I took a moment and observed the world. Everyone was going on with their normal lives.
I just wanted to scream at them, telling them what happened to us.
How could they be so happy and normal when the most heartbreaking thing just happened to us? How?
I knew it was stupid, my thoughts, because nobody really knew about the situation and I was being too selfish. I wanted everyone to feel what I was feeling, I wanted them to know what's been going on.
But I couldn't just do that. No. I had to move on, no matter how hard. I had to continue with life, because that's what mom wanted me to do. Dad would have wanted it, to.
They told me to live life without regrets--
and that was what I planned to do.
They did not want me to become a hunched up shell inside a house and be refrained from the world. Mom lived a full life. She fell in love, and she taught me how to fall in love, too. She taught me we would fall, that we would be put into fights, that life would throw obstacles our way that sometimes seemed so unmovable, so permanent.
But we'd fall, and we'd get back up.
She got back up, and she had dad.
And I had this life with me--a blessing. Each day was a blessing, each day was a gift, and it didn't matter how famous we were, or how much money we had, or how much we were noticed or accomplished or acknowledged. Those were the little things.
All that mattered was I was here, and I was surrounded with something so much greater than life--that was love. I was taught to appreciate what I had. And I had people who loved me more than I loved myself. And I appreciated that.
This death--it was all natural. I had a lot more in front of me. I had people to take care of, too. And no matter how much people would try to convince me it wasn't true--I had mom and dad with me. They were still here, because they were in my heart. And people don't really die if they still live inside of you.
The more I clasped onto the thought, the more a simple smile had cracked onto my lips. They were watching over me. Over us.
I took my husband's hand and watched as our children walked in front of us, all grown, all living the beautiful gift that was life. And I smiled.
Sing us a song, and we'll sing it back to you.
We could sing our own, but what would it be without you?
This heart, it beats, beats for only you.
My heart is yours.
Being a child of ever so popular rockstars was amazing. They raised me to grow up and follow my dreams. You couldn't ask for better parents than Hayley and Joshua Farro. My mom and dad, my helpers, and the people that have guided me throughout high school and beyond, along with my four other siblings, were the world's greatest parents. I'm eldest, 57 years old to be exact. Next is 55 year old Brynn, then 53 year old Hannah, then 52 year old Jake and 8 year old Maybell. Maybell was a beautiful little girl that we adopted into this family, despite the fact that mom was a bit too old to take care of her when she came.
In fact, mother relied on me to keep an eye and take care of Maybell. I definitely was dependable in that department. Ever since Maybell was a little baby, I've been the one changing her diapers. We adopted her since she was just so helpess. The rest of my siblings have been helpers to me, regularly keeping this family together.
I guess Brynn was the most helpful with keeping things under control. She was a motherly figure in her own way, growing up to be more like my father, Josh, inheriting his same soft brown eyes and brown hair. She had that Italian aura to her, as well. Brynn had her own family, marrying a nice young man named Landon and having three children with him. Mom loved Brynn's children, her eldest, Bailey, in particular. Bailey was 25 years old now, and still in the music industry with her own energetic rock band. She was very inspired by her grandmother (that being my mother) to start her own band, and they had won a Grammy and various awards ever since they started out. Bailey was my mother's grandchild and she made her proud.
My third sister, Hannah, was more like mom: fiesty, energetic, and she had a wonderful voice, and during high school she had won so many awards in choir and singing in general. She had bright red hair like my mom in high school, and still had a fading, now auburn color in her hair today. She married as well, having five children, most of which were now in college and one in medical school, pursuing a job in the medical field.
Jake, the shy, sweet only boy in the family with big, brown eyes was always the little sweetie that we could all count on. He was the second to youngest, 52 years old right now, and looked a lot like my dad. His wife was a beatiful Tennessee native named Jamie who inherited the Farro last name and gave birth to twin girls, whom she named Hayley and Ginger. She then gave birth to another baby boy who she named Joshua. He would be Josh Farro II, which was pretty cool. Jake's wife was very much inspired by my parents and did a great tribute by naming her children after my parents.
And that was basically our family, five children and two parents who managed to survive with us there. I smiled at all of them, all of us sitting patiently in the waiting room of this hospital. Jake's children were playing around with some of the hospital's toys and Maybell gladly joined them. Brynn, Hannah and I sat here, tension building in our bodies. I could tell.
I gripped Brynn's hand, and she gripped mine just as hard. Her husband, Landon, sat there beside her, and her children were there as well. In fact, the entire 2nd and 3rd generation of the Farro family filled up this hospital.
And I couldn't complain. I needed them here. I needed them more than I needed myself right now.
Tonight mom had a stroke.
It hurt so much--like pins and needles being stuck into my chest--seeing my own mother, the strong, feisty Hayley Williams, being pulled onto the stretcher and rushed to the hospital. Everything was a blur, a mess of the red and blue police lights that flickered on and off and still rang bright inside my head--those events happened so fast, and now we ended up here in a hospital waiting room.
I wish I had spoken up. I knew mom wasn't feeling well--I should have spoken to dad.
But that would have worried him.
The anxiety was ready to consume me. I gripped Brynn's hand tighter.
Sitting here, waiting here in the hospital, was heartbreaking. We had no clue what was going on upstairs. We just had to sit.
Sit and wait.
I am finding out that maybe I was wrong. I have fallen down, and I can't do this alone.
JOSH'S POV:
I remembered every detail, despite the fact it all happened so fast. They rushed her into the hospital room, doctors in their uniforms and lab coats blocking the way to Hayley. She was still and they forbid me to see her. A intern pushed me over to the side, knowing I was an old grandpa who probably couldn't fight back a young man like him; but I wouldn't let this intern get in the way. I needed to be by Hayley's side. "Sir," that boy said, his hand tightly gripped on my wrist, "I'm afraid you can't--"
"Look sonny," I began, having a weird obsession to the word 'sonny' that I called almost every young man I see that (it must have come with the old age), "I've been with her for over 50 years, and I've never left her side since. Don't think I'll be leaving her side tonight."
They let me stay with Hayley. I held onto her hand, until after only what felt like a short while, the doctors tried to disassuade me. "Look," I began again, after they tried to convince me that Hayley couldn't see or feel me because she was unconsious. "I'm holding on to her hand--see?" I held Hayley's hand up softly. "If you want me to let go, you're going to have to chop my hand off."
They nodded, understanding, and let me stay with her. They asked me to put on a mask and a gown however, asking me to stand to the side after I insisted that I not leave the room. I knew this wasn't allowed, but I just had to stay with her. Whatever would happen to Hayley, I would be there with her, helping her through it, and I did not plan on leaving her side.
Stay with me, this is what I need. Please.
BRYNN'S POV:
A doctor came by, calling only Jenna to go over to the side, and in a matter of seconds her mouth was cupped over her hand and she erupted into sobs.
I got up on my feet.
"Jenna," I whispered, hugging her, letting her cry about what I knew had happened. Her tears left a stain on my shoulders, and soon my own tears were falling down my cheeks. "Mom is..she's..." Jenna silently sobbed in between sniffles, burying her face into my shoulder. My sister, so strong a girl, felt completely weak as I held her there.
Hannah came over and knew what was going on, also. Maybell, playing on the sidelines, hadn't a clue. Jake stayed as a babysitter to his children, but soon eough, Hannah came to go tell him the news, being careful to whisper it low enough that it didn't alarm anyone else. And he didn't hold back a tear. He exploded in her arms, weak, and she held him there. As soon as I let Jenna go and let her cry in her husband's arms, I fell apart in Landon's arms myself. My husband gripped my sides tightly and cried along with me, rubbing my back in a sweet gesture that was supposed to be comforting but barely gave me an ounce of the comfort. My children were sitting in the hospital in an awkward silence, not knowing how exactly to react to something like this.
What was even worse was seeing the doctor just standing there. He was silent, grim, even--and he didn't seem to have an ounce of care over what we were feeling. A deep set, heavy shock lodged itself into my chest.
I couldn't breathe. I could distincly make out the vague "I'll give you all a minute" that the doctor mumbled to us all. Landon continued to hold me.
I am nothing now, and it's been so long.
HAYLEY'S POV:
There was light. It was very bright, calling to me, but something grabbed my hand all of a sudden. "Josh?" I asked, smiling to my husband who stood beside me, the glimmering image of youth and beauty. He was here. But why? How was he here? He was supposed to be beside me somewhere down on Earth, not up in the sky like this.
"It's time, Hayles," he replied, returning my smile with one of his own. It was a hopeful smile, a smile that gave me courage to continue into the light. It felt as if I had fallen in love all over again. Like we had fallen in love all over again. But this time, there was no pain, no sadness...just a contentment that I couldn't describe. Together, hand in hand, we walked toward the light.
Since I've heard a sound, the sound of my only hope. This time, I will be listening.
HANNAH'S POV:
We found both mom and dad, pale, yet with a golden almost glowing hue to them, together on the hospital bed around 3 'o clock AM in the morning. Had it not been for their pale, motionless bodies--I would have tried convincing myself that they were still alive.
It had been 60 years that they were together, and I only wished that they could spend 60 more. But life was life, and this was how it was. Tears were still welling up in my eyes as I looked over the bodies. So still, so peaceful--on dad's face there was a hint of a smile, and on mom's there was definitely an expression that I wasn't sure how to decode. She looked happy. Her mouth was twitched upwards. And she was beautiful.
I knew that wherever they were, mom and dad were together, and they were safe and...well, home. I smiled at both their bodies, though it wasn't supposed to bring a smile to my face, it did. They went peacefully, in the quiet, together. It was almost the most perfect, pure love story. They had lived as best as they could and passed on together.
Jenna was still crying, her sobs filling the room. She sat beside their hospital bed, her hand gripping tightly on mom's. Brynn did her best trying to calm her down. I couldn't. I wasn't very good at that stuff, anyways. I just stood there, Maybell tugging on my pants, impatiently asking me what was going on. I brought her outside, got her cookies from a nice nurse who so nicely offered me some, and sat her down on a bench.
"May," I began, taking a deep breath as I kneeled on my knees to get on eye-level with her. "Mom and dad have gone...somewhere."
"Where'd they go?" she asked immediately.
"They went to a better place, I'll tell you that." It took all my strength to not break down in front of her. I clasped onto Maybell's little hand for support--the reality that my mother was gone was still sinking in on me. It was still a shock--and trying to explain to Maybell made coming to terms so much harder.
Maybell smiled at me. "As long as they're okay. They are okay, right?"
"Yes, they are very okay," I answered.
"Will I see her soon?"
I willed my heart to not shatter--for my tears to not spill. I couldn't let her see me like that. I swallowed up the sob that was threatening to erupt and grabbed Maybell's hand tighter. "You will, May. You will."
She silently chewed on her cookie. Then she did something I didn't expect--she reached out her little hand and stroked me on the cheek. "I want to see mommy."
I grabbed her in my arms and hugged her tightly, giving in and letting one single tear drop from my face, wiping it as quickly as it came. I pulled away and looked Maybell right in her little eyes. "Come on, we have to go back." My voice had just barely cracked. I took a deep breath and swallowed hard. "Finish those cookies."
One week later..
I smiled up at the sky as I began my song for them. It was their song, and they were listening right now, wherever they were. I had convinced myself that much.
I sang the beginning verses of My Heart for my mom and dad, no one else. I could vaguely recall the first time she told me the story of how dad played it for her back when they were seniors in high school, up on a hill in Tennessee. I couldn't help but cry as I got into the chorus--it was overwhelming, the amount of passion inside this song, and as I came to terms with the fact that I would never see my parents again, I simply broke out in the middle of it all.
I rushed off the stage mid-sentence into the chorus and just cried. With my back against a wall, as if it was some sort of support for me, I let it out. They were gone.
My parents were gone.
And knowing that gave me a feeling of such low, painful sorrow.
Like this hole was in my chest--
like it was being cut with rough, serrated edges.
Please don't go now, please don't fade away.
JENNA'S POV:
After walking out of the funeral, I took a moment and observed the world. Everyone was going on with their normal lives.
I just wanted to scream at them, telling them what happened to us.
How could they be so happy and normal when the most heartbreaking thing just happened to us? How?
I knew it was stupid, my thoughts, because nobody really knew about the situation and I was being too selfish. I wanted everyone to feel what I was feeling, I wanted them to know what's been going on.
But I couldn't just do that. No. I had to move on, no matter how hard. I had to continue with life, because that's what mom wanted me to do. Dad would have wanted it, to.
They told me to live life without regrets--
and that was what I planned to do.
They did not want me to become a hunched up shell inside a house and be refrained from the world. Mom lived a full life. She fell in love, and she taught me how to fall in love, too. She taught me we would fall, that we would be put into fights, that life would throw obstacles our way that sometimes seemed so unmovable, so permanent.
But we'd fall, and we'd get back up.
She got back up, and she had dad.
And I had this life with me--a blessing. Each day was a blessing, each day was a gift, and it didn't matter how famous we were, or how much money we had, or how much we were noticed or accomplished or acknowledged. Those were the little things.
All that mattered was I was here, and I was surrounded with something so much greater than life--that was love. I was taught to appreciate what I had. And I had people who loved me more than I loved myself. And I appreciated that.
This death--it was all natural. I had a lot more in front of me. I had people to take care of, too. And no matter how much people would try to convince me it wasn't true--I had mom and dad with me. They were still here, because they were in my heart. And people don't really die if they still live inside of you.
The more I clasped onto the thought, the more a simple smile had cracked onto my lips. They were watching over me. Over us.
I took my husband's hand and watched as our children walked in front of us, all grown, all living the beautiful gift that was life. And I smiled.
Sing us a song, and we'll sing it back to you.
We could sing our own, but what would it be without you?
This heart, it beats, beats for only you.
My heart is yours.