Today is His Birthday

When we are grieving the loss of a loved one, it’s tempting to think about their last day, especially for suicide survivors. I prefer to think about their first day, their birthday, and how we celebrated. Pablo and I made so many beautiful memories. And a lot of them included Cuban food.

I frequently see 10:23 displayed on my phone, and I saw it twice daily in the weeks after his death a little over ten years ago. I always say, “Hi, Pablo!” Because I can think that today is his birthday, and I will never forget him.

Today is his birthday.

This year, however, the day snuck up on me. Yet, it must have been on my mind last Sunday when buying deli meat at Publix. I almost said aloud, “But I want a REAL Cuban sandwich!”

So, I looked up my Cuban Pork Roast recipe after stepping away from the counter and updated my list to include bone-in pork butt and sour orange juice. Before Hurricane Helene, I had real sour orange juice in my freezer. But it didn’t survive the week without electricity.

Pablo would have used a fresh ham, but it’s just me, and I wanted something smaller. A bone-in Boston Butt is perfect. And I had seen the ‘sour orange juice’ bottle on the International Aisle at Publix. As I took it off the top shelf, I couldn’t help but look at the ingredient list: orange juice, grapefruit juice, and more that told me it wasn’t sour orange juice. But it would have to do.

My pork roast was 3.1 pounds, so it was easy to halve the ingredients.

Pablo’s Cuban Marinated Pork Recipe

6-8 lb. pork roast

12 garlic cloves, divided

¾ – 1 cup sour orange juice

1 tsp. ground oregano

Salt and pepper, to taste

½ – 1 cup Spanish (white) cooking wine

1 onion, sliced

Start 1-2 days before serving. Peel and crush all of the cloves of garlic.  Use the point of a sharp knife to make deep slits all over the meat. Combine garlic, oregano, salt and pepper. Insert garlic mix into slits in the meat, pushing down with your finger.  Put meat in a large Ziploc bag and pour citrus juice and wine over the roast. Place the onion slices on the meat. Let the roast marinate in the refrigerator for 8-24 hours, turning occasionally.

When ready to roast, preheat oven to 325°F. Line a roasting pan with a large sheet of heavy-duty aluminum foil.  Place meat with fat side up onto the center of the foil. Pour the marinade over the meat and create a pouch with the foil to keep the steam and the marinade in. Roast until internal temperature reaches 170°F (approximately 35-40 min/lb.). Allow the meat to rest for 15-20 minutes. A boneless roast may require an additional 5-10 minutes/lb. to cook properly. Reheat in a 300°F oven for 45 – 60 minutes until warmed through.

How did it turn out?

This was the best Cuban roast pork I have ever made. I cooked it an hour longer than the recipe called for, which seemed to be a good thing. The meat is tender and flavorful.

Last night, I had a plate of pork, black beans, and white rice. Today, I made a Cuban sandwich. Both times, I raised my glass to Pablo. And then, I spent some time remembering our times together and his stories, which always made me laugh. The stories often revolved around fishing.

I also remember us sitting at Heathrow Airport’s Havana Club Rum bar. It was good rum, but it came with bittersweet memories. Pablo was born in Havana. One uncle worked in the cigar industry, and another uncle was an executive with Bacardi. The entire family fled in the early 1960s after Castro came into power. None of them settled in Miami. At first, their new lives began in Tampa, Florida, with the cigar factory and Bermuda, the new home of Bacardi.

In the early days of our relationship, when we got together for dinner with his parents in Tampa, making a pitcher of frozen Bacardi Daiquiris was guaranteed.

Later, when Mojitos became the rage, I asked him why we didn’t make them. He said no one in his parents’ circle drank them in Havana. It was always daiquiris.

I can’t remember the last time I made daiquiris, can you?

How Keeping a Diary Helps Both You and Your Loved Ones

Journaling is beneficial for airing your feelings. It is a private musing where you can write anything your heart desires. I highly recommend it, but diaries are helpful, too.

How keeping a diary helps your grieving process.

The photo above shows three of the forty-five diaries my mother kept. Although they have been in my possession for almost two years, I began reading them yesterday, Saturday. On Friday, I started feeling extra sad about the ninth anniversary of my father’s death, and I wanted to read what Mom wrote in her diary on that day.

The three of us were together at the dinner table when Dad experienced extremely labored breathing. As he sought relief, he experienced dizziness and difficulty standing and walking. I physically supported him as well as I could while Mom called 911.

Each year at this time, I read my story of his death and the aftermath, My Father’s Love: You’re One of the Good Ones, remembering how grief has its ups and downs.

What did Mom’s diary reveal about her grief?

Mom was a very private person who kept her feelings close. Her diaries are filled with minutia about what she ate, who called, or who she saw at the local cafe in The Trading Post. Mom never spoke about that day, but her life was irreparably changed as she wrote, “Swede started gasping and died at 5:45 pm.”

Perhaps writing this helped her organize her life in an orderly fashion she could manage, just as the daily recitation of meals helped her close each day before heading up the stairs to bed.

She read her entries occasionally after finishing the last book she borrowed weekly from the library. She noted the book’s title in her diary when she finished it. In addition, she kept a running list of all the books she read to avoid re-reading one.

Mom was a voracious reader, finishing six a week.

When she noted something each day, it was important to her. That is how I saw that her loneliness and grief were gnawing away at her personal security. She recorded how many mice she had caught in traps or if she had seen a mouse. Finally, in desperation, she got some rat poison, and the mouse problem was resolved.

Next came plumbing problems, with a stopped-up upstairs bathroom sink and a toilet that quit functioning. The final blow was her inability to lift up the heavy cattle gate at the driveway entrance. She was good about asking local friends to help her, but she began to feel like a burden. Swede would have taken care of all those problems when he was alive, so it was no wonder that she called out to me for help.

“I can’t live alone anymore, Dawn!”

I responded as quickly as I could, coming to help with everyday problems and then bringing her home with me, where she remained until she fell six years later.

How could it have been easier for Mom?

Communication was almost nonexistent in my family. We talked about lightweight subjects unless it was current events or the bonehead play in the latest college football game.

It might have been different if I asked simple questions.

“What was the highlight of your week in your diary, Mom?”

She might have tried to avoid answering, but I could have creatively pursued a fuller reply. Of course, I can’t relive the past, but I can act differently in my other relationships.

I’ll continue reading Mom’s diary entries, remembering events, and feeling her spirit around me. I know she loves me and enjoys hearing my voice when I comment on a new discovery of her love.

Now, her diaries are helping me in my grief.

Looking Back Has Merit – My Sixties

Talking about my birthday is not something I normally do, but this year, it has a purpose I couldn’t ignore.

A New Decade Birthday

Some people celebrate their birthday with a cake. I celebrate with fresh flowers that I buy and arrange. It’s like a double gift to myself. This quilt has many layers of meaning, but most importantly, almost all the material was in my fabric stash. I donated it to Mom’s friend, Lola, who made tied quilts for St. Peter’s Lutheran Church in Monte Vista, Colorado. Lola then pieced it into my favorite design, Log Cabin. Mom bought it for her guest bedroom, but now it is mine.

Looking back over ten years

As I lay awake at the end of the day before my 70th birthday, I naturally played the timeline of my 60s in my mind. It was both scary and hopeful.

Ten years ago, I considered signing up for psychic medium Kim Moore’s ten-month course “Psychic and Personal Development.” The only way I could consider it was to drop the first word, psychic. On the last day, I sent her an email asking to be her student. The nine women met every third Saturday. The classes were mostly at her business on South Wadsworth in Denver, Colorado. But we also gathered for a couple of excursions.

As I grew in understanding an alternative way of looking at life, my husband, Pablo, was sinking deeper and deeper into despair, which resulted in his suicide. Kim and my fellow students came to my home eight days later, and we cleared the energy together.

Perhaps I thought that would solve everything. So, I put it all behind me and sought a replacement relationship. Yes, I really did.

Please avoid my mistakes

My life before I turned 60 was filled with pleasing others and looking for someone to complete my life. At the time of Pablo’s suicide nine years ago, I had no idea how to grieve because I didn’t know who I was. It took almost nine years and the deaths of three more loved ones for me to start to discover answers.

Here are some of the things I’ve learned along the way.

Rule 1 – It’s important to make time to grieve.

What does it mean to make time to grieve? When I finally allowed the emotions of grief to emerge fully, I took time after starting my day to revisit the feelings I had immediately after my losses. Before this, I was afraid to delve deep. It helped when I prayed for the strength to let go of control and the courage to start the process.

Each time, my deep crying was short-lived, perhaps a minute. But the relief and calmness afterward have never left me.

Since I was alone, there was no choice but to go through this alone. You may find that too scary. If you choose to have someone with you, let them know you want them there for moral support but to keep their distance unless you motion them to come to you. Alternatively, you may seek a therapist who specializes in grief or a grief coach.

Follow the path that feels right for you.

Rule 2 – Grief is a normal reaction to loss

Your friends might not know how to comfort you. This is also very common. If you want to be completely alone, that’s okay. If you have someone to run interference, that is ideal; a pastor or best friend comes to mind.

Final Thoughts

Give yourself time to work through all your feelings. But also permit yourself to find joy in beautiful memories, the kiss of a loving pet, or random acts of kindness that come your way. It’s okay to allow unexpected moments of joy to embrace you.