Jody and I always considered June 28th to be our anniversary date. That’s the date in 1987 when we first met at the Pride Dance that followed the annual New York City Pride March. The day had started with early morning, torrential thunderstorms that cleared out the oppressive hot and humid weather that we had experienced for several days. The atmosphere turned and the day filled with crisp air and vivid blue skies. And, the seeds were planted that would blossom into a relationship that flourished for thirty-three years until Jody was lost in April 2020 during the early days of the COVID-19 pandemic.

It was late afternoon. I had been waiting for friends after the march, but the large crowd made it nearly impossible to locate anyone. Jody, always the more outgoing of the two of us, walked up smiling, and said hello. We were sharing some chit-chat when the DJ started playing Whitney Houston’s I Wanna Dance with Somebody, a song that we both liked. I said let’s dance, and Jody agreed. We squeezed ourselves into the throbbing mass of humanity and danced the hours away to favorite groups like Pet Shop Boys, Erasure and so many others. Sometime during the evening, there was a live performance by one of the many divas that were adored by the gay community. Maybe it was Madonna or maybe Cher or maybe some other vocal powerhouse. I honestly don’t remember. The only thing that mattered was trying to get to know more about each other as we shouted over the sounds of revelry all about us.

Sunset was approaching and Jody yelled into my ear asking to take a break. We unraveled ourselves away from the twisted crowd of dancers and found a space where we could talk. We were both hungry and knew we had to go to work in the morning. So, we left the dance in search of something quick to eat. We walked up Christopher Street and then onto Hudson Street. We came across a small outdoor café called Café Sha Sha where there was an empty table. We sat, exhausted from hours of dancing. I don’t remember what we ate, but we both ordered iced cappuccinos. We enjoyed our meal and our drinks (free refills on the house) and finally had a quieter space to talk and learn about each other. I was certain that here was someone I wanted as a friend if not a long-term companion.

Once the skies had darkened, there was a fireworks display out on the Hudson River across from the Christopher Street Pier. We paid our bill and headed back to a spot where we had a clear view of the pyrotechnics. It seemed so natural when we stood close together and wrapped our arms around each other. Eventually, we headed toward the subway for the ride back home to our own apartments. From then on, we were connected – in person or, when that wasn’t possible, by telephone – until Jody passed.

On our first anniversary, we started a tradition. We headed down to Café Sha Sha, where we found a table and sipped iced cappuccinos. Afterwards, we walked down to the pier and remembered the day we met. We carried out that tradition until COVID-19 imposed a time out.

In 2020, June 28th came again just two months after Jody’s passing. I felt in my heart that I had to carry on our tradition. I went down to Greenwich Village on the subway. I arrived at Café Sha Sha, but was disheartened to find that the café was permanently closed. Perhaps, it was another of COVID’s victims. I stopped at a nearby coffee shop, ordered two iced cappuccinos to go, and headed for the park along the Hudson River. I sat down and sipped slowly, remembering all the times we had spent at that peaceful place.

On June 28th, I’ll once again head down to Greenwich Village. I’ll stop somewhere and buy two iced cappuccinos; then I’ll make my way to the Christopher Street Pier and, looking out on the Hudson River, I’ll salute the thirty-seventh anniversary of the day I first met Jody. Happy Anniversary, my love.

I just want to say that even going to the supermarket makes me sad this week. You know that middle aisle? The red/white/blue flags and cups and barbecue supplies? This is because my father was a very proud immigrant to the U.S. and his favorite holiday was July 4th … where is the recognition for people like my dad? All this country wants to do is get rid of folks like him. But Covid got there first.

…And the names keep pouring in and with each name there is a story, with each story there is a loss but oh is there so much love.

I have all this energy and love.
Where do I put it? What do I do with it?
How do I keep honoring my son Keith and all those who lost their lives to Covid!
Each year since his passing I have done things in his honor.
I’ve created kindness cards with his picture and Covid statistics. As I share a good deed I share the card and ask for others to pay it forward if they can. I made this vibrant memorial rock garden, I have designated places in the house that are decorated just for him.
I’ve always felt the pull to do so much more.
I was scrolling through Facebook and found a few beautiful public memorials that people just started on their own. When I submitted my son’s name my heart felt something indescribable.

I started to think, I should do that. Can I do that? Without a creative bone in my body I started researching, learning, submitting information to the IRS and the state and before I knew it The Covid Legacy Memorial was started.. The supplies have been purchased and samples created.
It started out of love, out of grief, out of understanding for every single family left and for every single victim that covid took.
The world kept going and here we are still yearning, still loving, still grieving.

Yesterday I started submitting posts to some of the Covid boards on Facebook.
I read each and every reply, each and every email and inbox message.
I soaked in every single detail.
Please give me stories of their lives because it is a blessing to honor each and every one.
Please share them with the world.
Let them never be forgotten.
There’s an understanding between all of us.

If you are interested in adding your loved one’s name to the COVID Legacy Memorial please feel free to email me at CovidLegacyMemorial@outreach.com
with your loved ones names, date of birth, date of passing.
I’ll also be putting together a memory book so if you would like to add pictures, stories, poems or memories feel free to message me.
You can also follow the process on the Covid Legacy Legacy Memorial Facebook page.
Things are still in its infancy but it’s coming together.

September is my estimated time for the first display.
I promise to honor your loved ones with dignity and grace.

Covid Legacy Memorial
Rachael L. Sandoval

Four years ago, Father’s Day was celebrated with such sadness as so many dads were unnecessarily taken from us. I remember gathering with my kids that day thinking now what? Where do we belong on this day? And I think of so many who are wondering the same thing.

Mike–Happy Father’s Day in heaven. You should still be here with us. Celebrating being a dad and grandfather to all the grandchildren who will never know your kindness.

Memorial Day is not the start of summer as most people like to think. But it is a day to honor those who served in our armed forces and who protected us with their lives. We live in a free country because of the sacrifices they make. So let’s not forget the true meaning of this holiday as we have the day off.