original photo by Caroline Hernandez

Setting: a wake

Thank you all for coming. I know that my mother would have been happy to see all of your faces — even this late on a Sunday night. I’m sure we’ll all see each other later, but my brother and sister and I just wanted to share a little something personal before the whole… Nothing too long, just a quick and painful… (correcting:) painless, painless (laughs) uh… (looking off) you sure you want me to do this? Okay.

I won’t talk about what a great mother she was, I think we all know that. It’s evident in the kids she raised. None of us are in prison, or on drugs or reality TV. My sister does smoke, but we’re not pointing out flaws tonight. (smiles)

We just wanted to share a story and it kinda stemmed from the lovely photo of my mother over there by her ashes — it’s not just so you know who’s in there. The picture captures the young and vibrant beautiful earth mama she was — and how we’ll remember her. When the picture was taken, I was… 5. (off:) 5? Oh you were 5. I was 8, my sister was 5 and my baby brother Greg was a (Irish accent:) mere glint in me father’s eyes. (Puzzled:) I don’t know when we became Irish, we’re Greek right? Sorry. My sister Joanie and I were running around, playing in the house. “Not in the house!” I can’t do my mother’s accent. My sister can, ask her to do it for you later. She loves that.

So, we’re kicking for some reason and we’re trying to see if we can kick above our heads… like you do. And, my mother is goading us that we can’t, so of course we begin the “You do it. You do it.” And my mother bets us that she can kick over the top of the, like, 6-foot fridge. And she did get her leg up there. But, the other one followed right behind. And that’s where she landed. We just lost it, all of us, my mom, too. She was hysterically laughing. And after the laughter, she said only one thing that will ring in our heads probably for the rest of our lives. It was… owOOcha. (laughs, then gulps and almost loses his composure). Owoocha.

(quickly) So, if you want to tell your stories or even just sit there and listen to a couple of ours, on behalf of all of us, we’re grateful that you could make it. And happy you can share this evening with us.

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Read the other monologue Last Words:

written to bookend the short play My Condolences:

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Thank You All for Coming by Ernio Hernandez

Copyright ©2009 | Ernio Hernandez | All rights reserved.
(For permission to perform, contact author at ernio @ ernio.com)

Ernio Hernandez is a writer of plays, poems, short stories, humor and other flights of fancy.

Other plays: The Last Call | One Swipe Left| The Middle of Things

Writer-Artist ✍ Contact: ernio.com →in New Yorker: http://bit.ly/NYernio Find @ernio_art →on Instagram: http://bit.ly/eh-art License →via CartoonCollections.com

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