The following remembrance of Joe Ramaikas was posted by Michelle Mancuso to her Facebook page earlier today. Ramaikas died suddenly and unexpectedly yesterday while vacationing in Hawaii with his family. Mancuso worked as his assistant baker at Cedar Ridge Cafe & Bakery in Maplewood, NJ. This love letter to Joe is reposted with Mancuso’s permission.
Everything I start to write seems wrong. I refuse to believe he’s gone and the words are inadequate to describe him. Saying “was” instead of “is” makes me cringe. Because I want so badly to believe he will pick me up tomorrow at 5:50 a.m. and we will ride to the bakery together, listening to WFMU, and he will tell me all about his trip.
Joe was more than my boss. He was a best friend of mine for the last three years. He was the first person I saw upon waking up most mornings. He saw me at my worst, and I saw him at his. He shot straight and gave me the advice I needed to hear, not the advice I wanted to hear. He had the perfect shoulder to cry on, which I utilized more than I’d like to admit. And he always knew when I needed a hug, which is amazing because I am not a hugger.
I never had the chance to tell him how much I appreciated him. Or love him. How much he changed my life and made me realize my dream. He brought me on as his assistant baker over three years ago, when all I knew was how to make bland vegan cupcakes and couldn’t pipe on frosting, and gave me the confidence to become what I am today. He allowed me to be creative since day one, gave me keys to the bakery by week two, and put me in charge of the case this year. He never doubted me. He changed the course of my life and he will never know how thankful I am for that.
It angers me that there are people that viewed Joe as a grump or even flat out mean. It upsets me that not everyone saw him in the light I did. I guess his complex personality wasn’t for everyone. He was not fake upon meeting anyone. He was always himself. And if you got to talk to him you realized how amazing a human being he truly was.
I’ve lost family members to cancer or old age. I’ve lost friends to drugs which was a shock because they were so young. But Joe’s passing is not an easy one to understand. It isn’t fair. It doesn’t make sense. But part of me wants to embrace the fact that a few weeks ago, after years of saying he wanted one, he got his first tattoo. He got a mermaid on his arm for his mother. And he passed away while snorkeling with his family. There is beauty in that.
I love you, Joe. And I will never forget you or the impact you had on my life. I will never forget our early morning routines. Or our banter. Or our fights. Or all the cute animals you’ve sent me pictures of over the years. I promise I’ll finally read the Moon Knight comic you bought me, even if it’s Marvel. I promise I’ll finally play Dungeons and Dragons and be the best at it in your honor. I will try my hardest to continue what you started at Cedar Ridge, even if it means I have to always make the brownies now.
I promise to make you proud.
A word about the photo: Joe ebayed me that copy of Repo Man within minutes of finding out I had never seen it before, questioning if I was really a punk because that movie is a classic. He also thought it was ridiculous that he had to buy it on VHS in 2014 because I do not own a DVD player.
