Amongst the many dates boldly marked on my calendar for remembering and celebrating, one stands alone in sharp contrast to the others:
The anniversary of Joe’s passing.
Anyone suffering a great loss knows all too well how permanently altered their lives became on their day of loss. There is no red X big enough or eraser powerful enough to ignore the date that, if given the chance, we would gladly cross out reducing our year to 364 days.
This year will be 10 years. That’s a mighty long time. Some years I spent the day alone, wallowing it out in deep, dark sadness. Other years I went out to dinner with friends, toasting in his honor. Many years I would wake up within minutes of the time of death: 4:04 am. It is embedded in my psyche. That would be the start of a very long day. And some years I spent with my kids planting guava trees (the man loved guava), eating his favorite foods, and sharing stories about their wonderful father.
The word “anniversary” itself can seem a bit awkward for this day as it is a word typically used for joyful events, another year of marriage or as a commemoration of a notable business venture. When taken etymologically down to its roots, however, anniversary really just means the “turning of the year.” Joe’s passing was not a happy day for me, but the date will continue to come every year for the rest of my life. The anniversary of Joe’s passing. Another year without Joe. But also a chance to acknowledge a year of personal growth and appreciation for being alive.
Some people refer to this day as the death anniversary or even “deathiversary.” While I’m not one to shy away from the word death (check out The Death Deck), there’s something about it in this phrasing that weighs heavily on the negative — reminding me of the excruciating day it was — instead of encouraging me to do the very thing I really want to: celebrate the memories with him, appreciate the gifts he gave me and commemorate a life so well lived. While there is no perfect word to describe this day, nor is there a protocol for how it should unfold, there is one thing for sure, it will show up every year to be dealt with accordingly.
This year, with the date looming clearly on the calendar, I began jotting down ideas as to what felt right. It didn’t take long before I was prompted by a friendly text:
“Do you have plans for this year? I want to make sure you do what you want to do to mark this date. Let me know if it involves alone time to reflect or a group activity to celebrate all of your milestones.”
I love my friends.
I spend a great deal of alone time reflecting and meditating – especially in the days preceding this particular day – so the prompting for a group activity sounded very enticing. Others were thinking of him too, so celebrating his life together with my kids and a group of close friends felt like a wonderful way to spend the day.
Prompt given. Plan made. This year, we would gather together for a casual evening of stories and conversation.
Knowing there will always be triggers, I took some alone time in the preparation to allow my emotions to bubble up to the surface. I know there will be both laughter and tears. One touching memory that keeps coming to mind and making me smile: the bonding we’ve all shared over red velvet cake.
My only knowledge of red velvet cake before Joe was from the movie Steel Magnolias. I assumed the groom’s cake shaped like an armadillo being hacked into by Shirley MacLaine’s character was merely colored bright blood red for cinematic effect. Little did I know how uniquely delicious this southern staple truly was. “You’ve never had a red velvet cake?” Joe asked innocently early on in our relationship. “Um, no. I’m a California girl.” Within 48 hours I was experiencing my first bite of a homemade, moist and delicious cake with a hint of cocoa and a rich layer of cream cheese frosting. Long before the craze hit the west coast and became created into everything from cookies to waffles to ice cream, Joe was introducing red velvet cake to each of us…one delicious homemade cake at a time.
I don’t bake. But I knew my texting friend did. So, I texted back:
“The only requirement this year is that we all eat cake. Red velvet cake.”
She immediately agreed and offered up her services. Using one of Joe’s Kitchen Aid mixers (that had been gifted to her after his passing) she whipped up not one, but two of them to be served along with all the shareable treats the other guests graciously offered to bring.
And so we gathered…an intimate group of friends, some who knew Joe before I did, some who have been there through it all and some he never met but are here for us now and have come to know him through memories shared.
Surrounded by fried chicken (one of his favorites), homemade foods, caring friends, memories and stories of Joe, we were living the very thing he loved and inspired: a warm, communal gathering at home sharing a special moment together. It was the exact recipe needed to celebrate, honor and remember: an evening of laughter, mixed in with a few tears, and cake…lots of cake.
Awww. Red Velvet was an excellent choice for a very deep day. Wish I could have been there!
It was delicious — the cake and the day! Always here in spirit — Joe and your love for him:)
Loved this! Loved Joe(y) and loved his red velvet cake!!!
Wonderful memories of him!
Love your writing Lori!
Thank you Pam! No one could make a red velvet quite like Joey:)
Lori, wow – thanks for sharing with all of us. This is absolutely a perfect way to celebrate and honor Joe’s life. And as you point out — others can take your example and think of very personal ways to honor their loved ones that have passed. Thinking of Joe, it is amazing to me how impactful one life can be – he truly poured out his love for family, friends and food. His love and light remains always.
It certainly does…and it was perfect indeed. Thanks for reading.
You are a definite ” Wordsmith”. So very well written! Your story caught my emotions and brought a tear to my eye. We can’t bring Joe back,but he will never be forgotten.
Dad
Thanks, Dad:)
Such a beautiful tribute to such a wonderful man. Loved being there with the crew and eating cake!
So many gifts he gave to all of us. Loved having you here!
Wow Lori, can’t believe it has been 10 years! Your strength, motherhood, friendship, and ability to eloquently talk about Joe makes me think of the amazing friend I met 34 years ago and how time is going too fast. Love and miss you my friend and I always remember Joe’s smile.
Aww…thanks Tracy. I appreciate your kind words. All true:) And yes, that smile — warm and welcoming.
Beautiful & touching. It’s always an awkward day…… one that I never quite know what to do. Will be 7 years for us since Bruce died….thank you for sharing.
Thank you, Laura. Awkward is a good way to describe it. Bittersweet always. I hope in year 7 the sweet greatly outweighs the bitter.
He was an amazing and kind man. I know
How much you and the kids miss him. I miss him and his mischievous laughter. I still vividly Hear itmin my mind.
His 5-tiered laugh was truly delightful! I hope when you hear it you laugh along too…I do:)
Lori, that was so beautiful. My daughter Lori, anniversary will be 24 years this month. You have said so much of what is in my heart. Thank You. I send my thoughts and prayers to you and your family. I would really love it if you would come with Wendy, this year, to our show in September. God Bless
Thanks, Barbara. I hope your daughter’s anniversary day is filled with healing, loving memories.
I’d love to come to the show this year! I’ve got a new product launching later this year (The Death Deck) that could use some promotional products! See you there:)
Awesome! So well said! I’m so glad you have such a warm community of friends.
I’m so glad too…and happy to have you as part of that community:)
Oh, Laurie. Amazing. I am just in awe of your writing and how I could taste Joe’s red velvet cake as I read your beautiful words. You are a gift to all those seeking a way to lay claim to their own joy and a way forward after traumatic loss. Thank you.
So kind. Thank you! I do hope it helps.
Hi Lori
Congratulations on utackling a very difficult subject . I applaud your courage and wisdom
Hi Reesa. Thanks for reading and your very kind words:)