As one of the loved ones of the nearly 1.3 million Americans who died from COVID-19 and the millions more who continue to struggle with the lasting affects of Long COVID, I have to state how disgusted I was by the abhorrent behavior of Rand Paul, salivating like a hungry dog, and his pack of Repugnant-can lackeys and their kangaroo court as they attacked a true American hero, Dr. Anthony Fauci.

I know it’s only been about six and a half years since the world faced the scourge of COVID-19. But have we forgotten all that recent history?

Well, I remember. We had a malignant narcissist, worried about the impact on his re-election chances, telling us it would all “magically” be over in two weeks. Only a few people were impacted. Everything would be reopened by Easter, coincidentally, the day my partner first exhibited symptoms of the virus and a week before he died.

This individual, who holds a medical degree in BS, told us that hydroxychloroquine and, later, ivermectin, were “miracle” cures. He even proposed shining lights and injecting bleach into the body.

He refused to recommend that people wear a face mask to help prevent the spread of the virus. Isn’t it strange that six years later he is adamant that his goon squads wear facial coverings while they terrorize, and even murder, immigrants and American citizens — men, women, and children alike?

And, when he himself became sick with COVID-19, he had access to medications unavailable to average Americans. The hypocrisy is boundless.

Dr. Fauci, a well-respected scientist worldwide, had to balance public babysitting duties for this clown while marshalling scientists and researchers to help uncover a vaccine to help prevent further spread of COVID-19. In one of the most rapid responses in public health history, mRNA vaccines were developed which saved so many lives. Research shows that 80 percent of the people who died after the availability of these new vaccines were unvaccinated, many resistant to the jab because they adhered to the ruminations of their fearless leader. Not all scientific research and discovery is perfect, but it definitely offers a better outcome than sticking your head in the sand.

As a gay man who lost dozens of friends and acquaintances, I also know of the work of Dr. Fauci during the HIV/AIDS epidemic. His relationship with the gay community had a rocky start. People were dying and desperate for anything that would save them. Initially, Dr. Fauci and his colleagues in the medical community insisted on following long, drawn out protocols for testing newly developed medications. After a take over of the National Instute of Health by AIDS activists, Dr. Fauci began to reach out to them and to understand their desperation. Testing procedures were modified and many of the medications that came about have allowed people living with HIV/AIDS to live long and healthy lives.

I could go on. but I’ll stop here. If the Repugnant-cans want to point a finger of blame for COVID-19, they need to start with their feckless Führer currently occupying 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue. Otherwise, they should put on a facial covering and hide their shame.

I have tried to forgive insensitive people who said such hurtful things to me during the Covid Pandemic. Regrettably there were so many. A couple stand out to me. I got a call from the Funeral Home personnel who went to the hospital where Johnny died to pick him up from the morgue. He told me that Johnny was not there. Johnny died near Queens early in the Pandemic. I felt like I was in a horror movie trying to find my brother’s remains. At the same time some friends and neighbors were complaining that that they couldn’t travel or go shopping. One person said to me that the Pandemic was culling the herd. Unfortunately I could go on and on. Have we lost all proportion? I am still working on forgiving them.

I still remember the day we met. You asked me to dance, and I said no because I didn’t know how to dance to country music. You smiled, offered to teach me, and then asked for my phone number.

Well, 26 years later, I don’t think you ever gave me that dance lesson—I had to learn on my own! Looking back, I’m so glad I didn’t know how to dance. It turned out to be the best excuse I ever had. This year would have marked 32 years together. I miss you every single day, and I will always treasure the beautiful life and memories we shared. No matter how much time passes, you will forever hold my heart.

Jody was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis at the age of twenty-five. MS affects each person differently. In Jody’s case, it primarily impacted the use of his legs. Initially, he used a walker in our apartment because it gave him some stability. Sadly, within two years, he needed a wheelchair to get about especially over long distances. Despite his physical obstacles, Jody was determined that he would walk again. “All I have to do is keep my muscles strong,” he would say.

Several times a day he would trudge up and down the hallways in our building using his walker. It was a chance for him to maintain an exercise regimen for his legs, but it also aided his social interactions. As he prowled about the building, he would run into neighbors and would stop for a chat, or “we shoot the shit” as Jody would say, to catch up on the building’s latest gossip. The frustrating issue was that Jody still needed my, or someone else’s, assistance to go out of the building using his wheelchair. We solved that with the purchase of an electric scooter.

That electric scooter gave Jody new opportunities for adventure and mayhem (which I won’t describe here.) He became a regular at the local playground where there are sets of exercise equipment provided for all age groups. Jody made use of most of them. A favorite was the parallel bars in the children’s area. He could situate the scooter, stand up, and walk back and forth, holding onto the parallel bars which were at just the right height for him. He would then drive over to the adult section and use other equipment like the hip abductor and adductor and the chest press. When he came home, I’d ask him how it went. And, he would always reply with his mantra, “All I have to do is keep my muscles strong.”

But, of all the places Jody traveled on his daily journeys, the most important to him was our church, The Shrine of Saint Frances Xavier Cabrini. On the walls of the shrine, there is a large mosaic depicting scenes from the life and ministry of Mother Cabrini. Jody was immediately attracted to a section of the mural which depicts Mother Cabrini reaching out to a young man in a wheelchair offering comfort. He would sit below that part of the mural and his head would bow in prayer. Jody told me that he always believed that Mother Cabrini would look out for him and help him to be able to walk again. Jody’s faith was very important to him.

Of course, his dream of again walking independently ended with his passing from COVID-19 in April 2020. Since then, though, I have had sensations that Jody has come back to pay me a visit. Every time he appears, he is walking on his own without a wheelchair.

July 7, 2026, will mark the eightieth anniversary of the canonization of Mother Cabrini as a saint of the Catholic Church. I’m sure Jody will be celebrating. Six years later, when I look at the mural, I don’t see Mother Cabrini offering her hand in solace to the young man in the wheelchair. I see her extending her hand to Jody encouraging him to get up and walk. I’m sure it’s true. Jody’s faith and determination make it so.

I received a phone call today from my lawyer about my brother Johnny’s lawsuit against his nursing home. It was dismissed today by the judge because of Governor Cuomo’s immunity clause protecting all nursing homes against lawsuits in the beginning months of the COVID-19 Pandemic. Even though I expected this injustice, it was still a massive gut punch and I felt like I could not breathe.

It was never about the money. The nursing home accepted Johnny after his surgery for short term rehabilitation. There was no warning to us that COVID-19 was all over the facility. They closed the facility the next day. I am quite certain his roommate had Covid from all of his symptoms that Johnny reported. Then, later the nursing home took in hospital patients who were treated for Covid. Many were still active with Covid and many could not be tested since there were limited test kits. Infection control in the facility was abysmal. Johnny told me staff members were running out of masks. I could go on and on.

I understand immunity for the professionals such as doctors, nurses, therapists etc. I will never understand immunity for not warning us about the amount of Covid in the nursing home and for the poor infection control and lack of personal protective equipment. They just took my brother into their Lions Den and my brother was eaten alive. There was no justice and no accountability. Yet I know I carried on the good fight with all my heart and all my soul to fight for Johnny for six years. What will happen the next time?