Josh Evans had to get away from the pain, the haunting memories, the hurt that seemed to wrap itself around his heart and echo with every beat.
He had to do these things because it was the only way to honor Joycita Evans, a woman who refused to burden her youngest son with the knowledge she was fighting a hellish battle against devilish cells that were multiplying by the day in her ovary and taking over her body.
Stay in school, she would tell him. Stay focused on doing what is good and right in this world. Stay strong, my dear child, stay strong.
Those words saved Josh Evans the morning of May 11, 2005, when his mother died and he was the only one at home with her in Irvington, N.J. He was just a scared boy coming face to face with death. Those words were like a warm blanket, one that Evans pulled around him and used to help to hide the pain. He couldn’t publicly talk about her death, couldn’t go to that terrifying closet in his psyche where the memories of that morning stirred.
“This would be the first time I talked about this in an interview,’’ Evans told The Post in strong voice. “When my mother passed, it took a toll on me being the baby boy in the family.
“I was actually there. My mother had been dealing with cancer for a couple of years, and I had no clue, I didn’t know she had cancer because I was young, my parents didn’t want the baby boy to know that she was sick to that magnitude.
“It was toward the end of the school year, graduation was coming up, eighth grade, I had a day off from school. So my father went to work and he said, ‘Make sure you check on her every 10-20 minutes.’ I was like, ‘Alright, I will. After he left, 10, 15 minutes went by, I walked back in the room to check on her and that was it. I saw something that changed my life forever.’’
Evans, 21, now is a starting senior safety and the leading tackler (26) for Florida, which plays host to LSU today (3:30; Ch.2) in what essentially is an SEC playoff game. LSU (5-0, 1-0 SEC), last season’s runner-up, is looking to return to the BCS national championship game. Florida (4-0, 3-0), just three years removed from a national title, is looking to return to college football’s upper echelon.
Evans arrived in Gainesville the fall after the Gators won the title for the 2008 season. The hurt that had threatened to drown him was tucked away, not to be shared, not to be voiced. But as sure as you see your fingers when you look at your hand, Evans still can see his mother’s face that fateful morning.
“I walked in and saw her, like taking shortness of breath,’’ he said. “I started to panic, but I wanted to get up close on her to make sure she was OK and see what was wrong.
“I said, ‘Mom.’ She didn’t respond back. I said, ‘Mom.’ Again she didn’t respond back. So I called my father and I told him that she wasn’t responding. He said he’d be back. So now it was me and her there and nobody else, and me being 12 years old — it was a lot to see your mother there and not responding and not knowing what to do.
“For years that kind of haunted me inside. I’ve never been able to talk about it or explain it to somebody. But me being a 21-year-old and being a man, I think I can talk about it more without it bothering me emotionally. That took a big toll on me, my family.’’
Josh’s older brother, James, was a defensive back at Buffalo. He dropped football after his mother’s death.
Josh had his moments of doubt as well. But Joycita’s words were always in his ears, her face always in his eyes, her spirit always in his soul.
He has matured into one of those smart, physical SEC safeties that can dominate a game. He doesn’t read music, but he plays the piano. He is closing in on a degree in criminology. And now he can talk about his mother’s death, knowing no 12-year-old child should have to see his mother die.
“I think she would be a proud mother to see where I came from and where I am now,’’ Evans said.
Something makes us think Joycita Evans has been watching all along.