Joe's Smile

One thing I will say about my wonderful cousin, Joe, is that he had the most amazing smile of anyone I've ever met.  That is saying something considering I've met a lot of people in my lifetime. 

Joe died today at the age of 50.  He had cancer, the same kind from which my mother died.  Pancreatic cancer is a bitch.  It's that simple.  His condition was complicated, but I'm not ready to discuss that yet.  As a writer, I suspect I should be willing to talk about anything, but as a human being, I haven't begun to grieve yet.

I have a photo on my counter of my brother, four of my cousins, and me at the beach in Capitola, California, during the summer of 1964.  We used to go there nearly every summer.  Our parents, and friends of theirs with children, would rent seaside cottages and we would have the best time.

On this particular day, we decided to bury our legs in the sand.  I don't remember the actual day, but if our faces were indicators, we had a great time.  I was on the far left.  To the right, there were Tom, and John, Joe's brothers, my brother, David kneeling in the back, Joe, and his sister, Caroline.  To me, it's a precious picture because now three of us in the photo are gone.  John died in a car accident at 16 in 1974.  David died in 2006, four months after my mother died.  Joe joined them today.  Tom, Caroline, and I are the ones who remain from that moment so long ago. 

I spent quite a bit of time in Santa Clara, along with all of Joe's brothers and sister, in-laws, nephews, nieces, and his children, taking care of this wonderful soul.  It would be very easy to make Joe a saint in my heart.  He was no more a saint than any of us; although, I will say this:  Joe's smile was not of this world.  Even at 50, he had the smile of a joyful, awestruck child.  He was thrilled by everything.  He lived in a state of grace that I have rarely seen.

When we were younger, Joe and David were joined at the hip when we were all together.  As we grew older, David moved to Washington and Joe and I grew closer.  Out of all my cousins, he, his sister, Margaret, and his brother, Tom, are the ones with whom I am closest.  They are more like my brothers and sister, especially because my own brother is gone now. 

The telling part about Joe is that most people who knew him felt the same way.  He had that innate ability to make everyone feel as though they were the most important person in the world to him.  I'm certain I know why.  He understood gratitude.  He never took anything for granted when it came to giving or receiving love.  He cherished every moment with those he loved.  We talked about that often. 

Between his children, Jackie and David, his amazing surviving siblings, Robert, Margaret, Elizabeth, Thomas, Caroline, and Mary, his brave parents, Joaquin and Caroline, and everyone else who has surrounded him with his best interests at heart, Joe had a lot for which to be grateful... and he was.  He said so all the time. 

The day I left the hospital in Santa Clara for the last time, Joe and I embraced, kissed one another good-bye, and I said that I would see him again soon.  He looked at me with a look that is indelibly scorched into my heart.  He knew we would never see each other again in this lifetime.  I knew it too, but he smiled at me in such a way as to say, it was the way it was supposed to be.

I will miss this beautiful, laughter-filled, spirit-sharing man. My commitment to Joe is to redouble my efforts to validate and appreciate those who are generous enough to love me.  The good news is that I have been very lucky in that way.  I am surrounded by many people who share their love in small and large ways every day.  As Joe would say, "I may not have a lot of money in the bank, but, Jimmy, I'm the richest man in the world.  I have love." 

My faith tells me that Joe was greeted by Johnny, David, Mom, Aunt Mary and Aunt Bea, Nana Rayo, and everyone who went before him.  I believe he is in the light of God and is perfectly happy now, without cancer, without pain, and without worry.  I am happy for him.  I believe, too, that when my time comes to move forward, he will be part of the cadre to greet me. 

I suspect that if there are clouds through which I must traverse on the way to my celestial home, it will be Joe's smile that will guide my path. 

Thank you, Joe, for your friendship and fraternity.  I am grateful for your faith, fearlessness, and strength.  I will love you forever and you will never be far from my memory.  Thank you, too, for adding to my emotional coffers because you have helped to make me the rich man I am today.

God bless you, Cousin.  I know he blessed us with you for half a century.  For that, I will always be grateful.  Godspeed on your journey home.

Love,

Your cousin, Jim