Stories: Who We Have Lost
A Baltimore Halloween
Story aboutJohnny Fischer
Johnny came to visit me at the University of Maryland at Baltimore when I was in college in the early 1970’s. We both loved the poems and short stories of Edgar Allan Poe and we both always loved Halloween since we were kids. Very close to my college dorm was the Westminster Hall and Poe’s Burying Grounds. On Halloween night with flashlights, Johnny and I joined other students at Poe’s gravesite among the mausoleums and gravestones. We all took turns reading Poe’s poems and stories. My favorite poem was “Spirits of the Dead” where Poe writes about moving from one world to the next. I believe someday in the future I will see Johnny again. In the meantime I have so many special memories of my wonderful brother.
Anger, Resurfacing
Story aboutMr. M.
Every time I hear another news report or podcast discussing the current debates and debacles about the COVID vaccine, I find myself catapulted into a tailspin of anger. I think about Mr. M., our beloved coach, dying alone in an overcrowded hospital in Newark. If Mr. M, had had that vaccine, in some fantasy world before it was available, he would probably be alive now. He’d be old and opinionated and alive.
Politicians and alleged health people at HHS are doing grave harm to this nation. And, as they are denying, they are thus forgetting the nearly 1.3 million deaths from COVID. They are dancing on their graves, five years later, for vanity and political points. It makes me sick.
The Last Visit
Story aboutAlberto Locascio
Four years ago today I saw your face, held your hand and told you that I loved you for the last time. I prayed for you and pleaded to you to fight like hell like you did the last time you were sick. Yes, four years ago today I saw you for the last time, and I hoped and prayed that you felt my presence and all the love I still had to give.
Sleep peacefully, my stepson.
September 28, 1981 – September 20, 2021
Tomorrow will be four years since you left us. I will forever love and miss you.
The Lion’s Den
Story aboutJohnny Fischer
My brother Johnny had emergency surgery in early March 2020. He was released to a NY nursing home for short term rehabilitation with the expectation of recovering and going home in a month. He arrived in the nursing home and the next day it was closed to visitors because of the Covid Pandemic. No one warned me and if I knew this I would have taken him home. When I asked a higher level medical professional if the facility knew there was Covid present, her response to me was that they cannot divulge this information. To me that said we were not warned.
Then I discovered immunity was given to all facilities by Governor Cuomo which as a health professional myself I can understand. However I should have been forewarned when my brother was placed into the Lion’s Den of Covid. There should not be facility immunity for this.
Cuomo then added another directive for overcrowded hospitals: Nursing homes can accept Covid positive patients if they can manage them. I have worked in nursing homes and know infection control can be challenging during normal times. This was extremely poor judgement and involuntary homicide in my opinion. My brother caught Covid after this directive.
Where is the justice? Where is the accountability? It was awful that I could not get into my brother’s facility and barely got any communication during that time. I still can’t believe this nightmare was real. I am sorry Johnny, as I tried my best but I could not protect you and neither did anyone else.
August came, and went
Story aboutAlan Trobe
Hi Daddy,
Well, August came and went. Another year without you here. G celebrated his 10th birthday. I remember when he would sit on your lap and play. You would call him ‘Bubba’ to get his attention, only to have him start calling you that. You were his Bubba. The great grandson with his name the same as yours. He misses you but his memories are fading, and he gets quiet when we talk about you. You would love him to pieces; he’s such a good kid.
We should have celebrated your 81st birthday with G on Sanibel and gone to The Bubble Room. We didn’t go down there this year. We haven’t been the last couple of years due to hurricane damage. The two trips down there before that, were hard without you. It’s just not the same. You were the center, and everything fractured after you died. We rarely get all of us together anymore.
You should have been here to hold the great grandbabies as they joined the family. There are seven now. Two girls and five boys. The all-girls spell has been broken. So many times, I’ve wanted to ask you something or call and tell you about … anything and everything. I still do. I just don’t get a response back.
I retired at the end of August, Daddy. I wish I could have shared it with you. The whole family would have went out to celebrate with wonderful food, cake and drinks to toast. None of that happens anymore. It’s just us and Mom. Everyone else has either gone their own way or are too busy. I miss how we used to be. How even when we were kids we would go to Grandma and Grandpa’s, and everyone would be there. It’s all gone now. Somehow without you … everything collapsed.
It’s not fair. The ones filled with hate are still here. They got the medicine that could have saved you, because of who they were. If you had gotten Covid a year later, you’d probably still be here. This is my reality now. Every happy moment has a small shadow over it. Every accomplishment seems not as… important. Life is less without you in it.
I love and miss you.
I always will.
Your daughter,
Dawn