Joe

At Mario's for dinner - 1986

The first time I met Joe he was wearing a green-striped shirt and following David, his elder brother, into his father’s office.  He looked over the counter and smiled at me.  His father, Mario, was my boss who I would marry...eventually. 

“Boys,” Mario said in a voice reserved for his children.  “This is our new Park Aid, Janet.  She’s brand new so don’t bother her.  She’s still trying to learn how to type.” Mario thought he was funny.  So did the boys.

Instead of “not bothering me” the boys walked over to my desk.  David was tanned with brown hair and brown eyes; Joe was blonde, with glowing blue eyes.  They both looked at me when the spoke—even though David did most of the talking. 

“We just got here from Kansas,” David said.

“That’s where our Mom lives,” Joe said, dreamily.  He had just turned six;  David was seven, but quickly told me that he would soon be eight. 

I liked them immediately.  They were filled with wonder and questions.  They wanted to use my new electric typewriter.  They told me they had just ridden a horse the day before and Joe actually fell off.

“But I got up and got back on,” he said, proud of himself.  Years later, Joe would become quite an accomplished horse rider—a cowboy, if you will.  Both boys would learn to break and care for horses with great skill.  Both boys would become so woven into my life that I would refer to them as “my sons.” But that evening, I didn’t see any of this coming.  

I went to Mario’s house for dinner that night (more at the invitation of the boys than of him) and got to observe their family dynamics a bit more.  Both boys basked in the glow of their father’s attention.  At some point, I picked up a book and started reading to them.  It was beautiful and magical.  I read four or five books that evening before I excused myself and went home.

“Why are you leaving?” Joe asked me as I packed up my purse. 

“I have a baby,” I answered above their father.  (Mario was laughing, saying: “Because she doesn’t live here!”)

“A girl baby or a boy baby?” Joe asked.

“A boy.  His name is Vince.”

“Can you go get him and bring him back here?”

I looked up at Mario who was smiling. 

“No, honey,” I said.  “I’m going to go home and give him a bath and put him to bed.”

I left that night and did exactly what I intended to do--I went home, gave Vince a bath and put him to bed.  I didn't get any ideas about marrying Mario (my boss) or becoming a step-mother to his children--those came later.  

David (hogging the scope) and Joe at the observation deck of the Empire State building.
Notice the Twin Towers in the back?

David gave me lots of chances to get close to him; Joe took a while longer to accept me.  He was careful and watchful.  On a trip to New York City, David agreed to hold my hand when we crossed the street or walked crowded sidewalks.  Joe permitted me to hold his wrist.   David shared his heart and mind with me; Joe watched me closely.

Two years later, Mario and I married.  We all lived in one smallish house and welcomed baby Alicia soon afterwards.  We became what psychologists were calling “a blended family” –a trend that was becoming more and more common.

Eventually Joe and I became closer, mainly because he could see that I was someone who wasn’t going away.  As he grew, I saw that Joe’s heart was the most like his father’s: steady, mighty, tender.

Years past and Joe is now a man with a family of his own.  

Joe, Ariel, Asher and Harvey Christmas 2015

Two years ago, Joe married Ariel, his long-time girlfriend.  Ariel came with a young son named Asher, about the same age that Vince was when Mario and I married.  They had Harvey one day after they tied the knot—a perfect little son that looks just like Joe—who looks like Mario. 

When I see Joe today, he glows with the same, careful light that he exhibited as a boy.  He loves being a father to Asher and Harvey; he loves being a husband to Ariel.  To watch a son being the leader of his family is precious and inspiring.  Joe seems to have been reborn with fatherhood and the occupation makes him glow.

March 2017 --Three Generations: Mario, Joe and Harvey

Today is his birthday –Father’s Day.  I watch Joe now as he used to watch me; I see him alive and sparkling in full bloom.  A husband, a father and the proud pappy of a new baby, Harvey.  As a man, he has come into his own.

Over the years, I have amassed thousands of memories and thousands of words to describe Joe, but the way I usually describe him to strangers is that he is like Mario.  He’s intelligent without being arrogant, kind to strangers, loves his family, and thinks he is funnier than he really is.  He is tender and strong.  He thinks before he acts, is a great team member, and make decisions cautiously and carefully.  I am so proud of him.

Happy Birthday, Joe!  I think you know this, but I love you very much.  Your steady love and understanding has been greater than I could have ever hoped for.

 To me, this is proof that God has a greater plan than any of us can ever see.