A Life Examined | A Time to Mourn
In which Teófilo ponders the losses of the last five years.
There is no pain so great as the memory of joy in present grief.” – Larry Stansbury
Losses and Recoveries
Mercie's cancer and recovery marked the beginning of a long season of losses. Of course, I didn't lose my Mercie, but her illness reminded me of her frailty. In fact, the event brought to me like never before the certain fact of our own mortality. The marks on her body after the 2017 and then, the cancer, brought vivid memories of Mama Ana's departure. My diabetic spike complicated my ability to cope.
I needed counseling to sort everything out and I set up into a twofold track. I saw a psychologist who helped me put things in perspective. I also adopted a new spiritual director, a Carmelite priest based in DC. He helped me prepared for a general confession which I did henceforth.
The healing came in at the needed time, for we had more challenges to meet ahead. For three pillars of the most important pillars of my childhood would pass on.
Titi Geno
Titi Geno was Papi's oldest child. I came to know her as a vivacious, self-assertive woman. She was always laughing and her laughter was infectious. We, her nephews and nieces, always looked forward to her visits from her New York home. In fact, her home was the first place I visited on the US mainland in 1972. She died at age 91 in 2022. She started the wave of departures of dear family members.
Titi Gloria
We brought Titi Gloria to live with us in 2021. She always remained special with us and helped us without us asking. In return she'd asked me not to forget her in her old age. I meant to make her wish come true.
She was in a bad state. Suffering from vascular dementia already, her prescription medication regime needed updating. She was intent upon maintaining control of her life but she was making mistakes.
I'll spare you the details of what happened next, but the truth is that she went out of her way to sabotage her stay. Many times I told her she was making a big mistake. I told her I loved her, that I needed her presence with me. It made no difference. She went back to Puerto Rico and tarnished our reputation to justify her return—and to make sure no one sent her back to us.
In September 2022 she grew anxious as Hurricane Fiona struck Puerto Rico. She slipped and broke her hip. As it is often the case, she declined very fast after that.
During a phone call, Titi Gloria asked to come to live with me, forgetting that she'd done so already. I said no and reminded her of how she ended up in her situation. She didn't remember the first time and responded with anger to my denial. She hung up.
Two weeks later, on Ash Wednesday 2023, she was gone. Our last communication was a disagreement powered by dementia, disability, and frustrated wishes.
I wrote the full narrative about her transit here, right after it happened. This is the point in the narrative where it belongs. The whole turn of events hurt me still. I forgive her, and ask for her forgiveness from heaven every day.
Tío Pin
Tío Pin endured a long, slow decline and death from Alzheimer’s. The illness made him unable to sustain the long phone calls we used to have. He died on the Solemnity of the Assumption, 2024 a very blessed day for one's departure. He spent his Purgatory on earth and went straight to God's presence. I'm sure of it.
Mom
And then there was Mom. Her departure followed a familiar path. She fell and broke her hip. Taken to the hospital for surgery, she caught COVID in the ward. The COVID may have damaged her body's ability to regulate the sugar in her blood among other problems. My little brother flew from his very busy US Army job in Germany to place her in a nursing home.
But Mom's body never recovered the ability to self-regulate. She died not a month after her fall, last April of this year 2025. She was 84 years old. You can read the two related posts which I wrote at the time, here and here. This is where those posts belong in my story's timeline.
I must say I mourn for her still. Yes, for her and for the moments that will never come, for all the time we lost, and for the way that things could've been. It's a heavy load. Still, I offer my pain so other children can find peace with their mothers—even when those mothers deny any fault in failing to love.
Others
I had other friends who'd left during these five years whose departure left me with a sense of isolation. One may even call it "survivors guilt."
There was Marta Granados, a classmate from la Academia. She fought hard against breast cancer, but hers was found much later than Mercie’s. Marta died in October, 2024 after five years of battling the disease.
Jesús Rafael Santiago and I hadn't been that close when at la Academia. He was a jock and a complete extravert. I was the exact opposite. But when he fell ill, also from cancer, we started communicating with each other. I called him a couple of times, one of which he thanked me for my friendship. He meant it from the bottom of his heart. Many other of my classmates coalesced around, and did a lot more for him, during those difficult times. He died in June, 2024.
Then there was Dr. Michael González. Though four years older than me, he had no qualms in welcoming me in his circles of friends. He and my friend Angelito were fast friends. Michael was a well-known doctor and TV personality, serving as the local sports medicine expert. His clarity and simplicity endeared him to his audience. We'd just reconnected when, in July 2024, he went in for a routine knee surgery. Complications followed and he died of an embolism not long afterwards. His sudden passing shocked all his friends and admirers of Puerto Rico.
I mourned and continue to mourn for my departed Mom, Titi Geno, Titi Gloria, Tío Pin, and other departed friends. Their passing marked the start of my late adulthood—a quiet sign that I had entered the autumn of my life.
Memento mori. Remember death.