
Days before her birthday, Jon Bon Jovi’s mother Carol Bongiovi passed away.
She was dubbed a “force to be reckoned with” by the singer.
JON Three days prior to being eighty-three, Bon Jovi’s mother, Carol Bongiovi, passed away.
Jon, 62, spoke empathetically about Carol following her death on Tuesday at Monmouth Medical Center in Long Branch, New Jersey.
Jon told PEOPLE, “Our mother was a force to be reckoned with; her spirit and can-do attitude shaped this family.”
“We will miss her terribly.”

Carol, a former Playboy bunny, founded the fan club for her son’s band.
She met her future husband, John Bongiovi, Sr., after she enlisted in the U.S. Marine Corps in 1959.
After relocating, they reared their children in Sayreville, New Jersey.
Following that, they relocated to Holmdel, New Jersey, where she lived until her passing.
It was reported that Holmdel Funeral Home will oversee Carol’s private funeral.
Her three children, Jon, Anthony, and Matthew, as well as her 63-year-old husband, will miss her.
Jon has previously stated that when he was a child and desired to be a musician, his parents provided him with “incredible support.”
In November 2020, he said, “Even if you weren’t good at your craft, you could work on it if you thought you were,” to The Big Issue.
“As I grew older, I realized how wonderful my parents’ gift to me was.

“They genuinely believed John F. Kennedy was directing them to travel to the moon.” “You can go to the moon, of course.” Just go, John. I visited that place.
The performer told about how his parents used to take him to concerts when he was seventeen.
When Jon was seventeen, his parents allowed him to perform at events, which allowed him to pursue his aspirations.
“They were always there for me, which was amazing looking back,” he remarked.
“Because I could have to be at school at eight o’clock and get home at one or two in the morning.”
“They just told me to go to school on time, you know that’s my responsibility, but follow your dreams.”

The girl Jon fell in love with in high school, Dorothea Hurley, is the wife he married.
Together, they are parents to three sons, Jesse, Jake, and Romeo, and a thirty-one-year-old daughter, Stephanie.
Model Jake wed Stranger Things actress Millie Bobby Brown in a tiny, private ceremony in May 2024, according to the first story from The Sun.

The parents of Millie and Jon attended the little wedding.
He expressed his excitement for the wedding to The Sun the week prior.

“My grandchildren will have more English ancestry than Italian or any other heritage I may have” That must be absurd, right? The musician screamed.
“Your kids are married and talking to you about having grandchildren all of a sudden? Wow!” In my book, this is the longest chapter.
I Found Tiny Childrens Shoes on My Late Husbands Grave Every Time I Visited, Their Secret Changed My Life

When Ellen visits Paul’s grave, seeking solace, she’s puzzled by the sight of children’s shoes resting on his headstone. At first, she dismisses it, assuming it’s a mistake by another grieving family. But as more shoes appear over time, the mystery deepens. Determined to understand, Ellen eventually catches the person responsible—and her life changes in an instant.
The first time I saw the shoes, I thought someone had made a mistake. A small pair of blue sneakers lay beside Paul’s headstone, neatly arranged as if left with intention. I figured a grieving parent had misplaced them. People do strange things when they mourn—I know I did. After Paul passed away in a sudden accident, I spent an entire week making jam that I knew I’d never eat. It was the only thing that made me feel like I was doing something, anything.
But those shoes were different. They didn’t belong, and I moved them aside before placing my flowers by Paul’s grave. It wasn’t until my next visit that I noticed something unusual: there were more shoes. This time, tiny red rain boots. Then, during another visit, I found dark green sneakers. It was too deliberate to be random. And it didn’t make sense. Paul and I never had children. I tried to convince myself it was a mistake—a grieving parent finding comfort in placing shoes at the wrong grave—but deep down, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right.
As the shoes multiplied with each visit, it felt like an invisible hand was pulling at the fragile threads of peace I had stitched together. Frustrated, I stopped visiting for a while, hoping that by staying away, the shoes would disappear. They didn’t. Instead, they kept coming. When I finally returned, six pairs of children’s shoes stood in a neat row beside Paul’s headstone, like a haunting tribute I couldn’t comprehend.
My sadness turned into anger. Who was doing this? Was this some cruel joke?
Then, one cold morning, I finally saw her. She was crouched beside the grave, gently placing a pair of small brown sandals next to the growing collection. Her long, dark hair swayed in the breeze as she carefully arranged them, her movements slow and purposeful.
“Hey! You!” I yelled, charging toward her, the flowers I had brought slipping from my grasp, forgotten.
She flinched but didn’t run. Instead, she stood slowly, dusting off her coat before turning to face me. That’s when my breath caught in my throat.
It was Maya—Paul’s old secretary. I hadn’t seen her in years, not since she abruptly left her job. She had always been warm and cheerful, but the woman standing before me now seemed burdened with a sorrow I recognized all too well.
“Maya?” I whispered, the disbelief heavy in my voice.
She nodded, her eyes red with unshed tears. Without a word, she reached into her coat pocket and handed me a worn photograph. My hands shook as I took it, my heart pounding in my chest.
It was a picture of Paul, smiling down at a baby boy cradled in his arms.
“His name is Oliver,” Maya said softly. “He’s Paul’s son.”
I stumbled backward, the world spinning as the weight of her words sank in. My husband, the man I thought I knew so well, had lived a secret life—with a child.
“You and Paul were…” I couldn’t finish the sentence.
Maya nodded, tears spilling down her cheeks. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this. I never wanted to hurt you. But after Paul’s accident, Oliver started asking about his dad. I told him Paul was watching over him, and every time Oliver gets a new pair of shoes, he asks me to bring the old ones to his daddy.”
The shoes… they were a child’s way of staying connected to the father he had lost.
I wanted to scream, to demand answers from a man who could no longer give them. But standing there, staring at the shoes left behind by a little boy who would never know his father, I felt my anger start to melt into something else—something softer.
Maya looked at me with guilt etched on her face. “I’ll stop bringing the shoes. I never meant to upset you.”
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