My cousin Joe

He is Jofre to us – his family. He is Joe to everyone else. The amazing thing is, we did not really know who JOE was until he unexpectedly passed away last June 20th.

Joe was 42 when he died from what was supposed to be a comparatively routine surgery that required an overnight stay. My aunt and cousins left him in good spirits around 10 pm on Tuesday night. A couple of hours later, the hospital called his siblings and let them know he went into code blue. They performed an emergency surgery on him that lasted four hours, but in the end, they had to tell my aunt and cousins there was nothing else they could do. He bled too much. The doctor asked them to let him go.

He was gone around 11:45 in the morning on Wednesday. His body was bloated and was still oozing with blood when they saw him. The sight was devastating and unbelievable. It was heart-breaking. Jofre was no more.

A friend of his was also in the hospital that same day because his wife just gave birth. He looked for Joe to tell him the good new and was in complete shock and disbelief when my cousins told him Joe died. He ran out of Joe’s room dazed and in tears.

Prayer services for Jofre were held on Monday and Tuesday nights and he was interred on Wednesday, June 27th – a week after he died. My aunt and cousins felt unbearable grief - until people came to pay their respects and told them what Joe had done in his short life. They were very surprised to see who came and what they said.

We have always known him as a hard-working, reliable and down-to-earth kind of guy – our Jofre, but to those who called him Joe, he was not just a friend – he was a guide, a teacher, a supporter, an anchor, a master.

He held two jobs with two restaurants – The Lodge at Pebble Beach and China Delight in Carmel. He did everything - from bussing tables to seating clients to designing the menu, and cooking. There were no airs about him. He did what was needed to be done to make things happen. What we did not know is that he treated all the people he worked with like family, and they in turn welcomed him as one of their own.

My aunt and cousins did not know many of the people who were at the services, until they approached them and told them what Joe had done for them - from helping them find a job, on the job, getting them to and from work, teaching them the ropes, being an "uncle" to their children, or just being a friend.

During the services, the president of Pebble Beach Club, the president of the union, and many other co-workers and friends spoke of a guy who went out of his way to help, with that ever present smile on his face, a sturdy grip and a comforting presence that ensured things will be okay.

The rest of us loosely use the phrase "touching lives" but here is the guy who not only actually touched peoples lives but more importantly, helped them make it in life. Many of those who came were underdogs - immigrants from Asia, Latin America and Eastern Europe. He did not care who they were or where they came from. He helped them the best he could and gave of himself, 100% never asking nor searching for credit . He never boasted, never spoke of his good deeds to others, not even to his family. He just did it because it was the right thing to do.

Aside from providing generous food during Joe's post-interment gathering (Both restaurants did. China Delight even closed for Joe's funeral.), the Pebble Beach Club also provided a grief counselor for their employees to help them deal with Joe's loss. It is a testament of how much this unassuming guy impacted the morale of the people he worked with and the company he worked for.

Allan, the young son of one of Joe's coworkers made a book where in every page he described what Joe was to him. In the end, he called Joe "the Master", as in the teacher that Joe was. His tears broke the hearts of many people at Joe's services. They were tears of a pupil who lost the master he so loved and cherished and from whom he learned a lot.

I felt so small next to Joe. I felt like one of those "clanging cymbals" who spoke words that are devoid of what really matters. Joe did not speak much, he just did more, and did it with his whole heart.