As I await the birth of a new grandchild this spring, I think of what happened 5 years ago on April 14th 2020.

My husband Mike lost a battle to Covid. One minute I was talking to him– 40 minutes later he was gone.

Mike was so excited when our first grandchild was born. He proudly bored anyone who would listen and look at photos. We then had two more before Mike passed but they were so young that no one remembers him–only through stories.

Mike had such a wealth of knowledge on many subjects. He loved the Yankees and could not wait to get his childhood baseball glove ready for a game of catch with his first grandson William.

Mike was also a great swimmer and loved the ocean and building sandcastles with his children and was ready to start digging in the sand again.

So many lives were cut short and so many of us who remain will never have know the knowledge they had to pass down.

Now another grandchild will have no idea who this great man was and will look at a picture and never know his love. I grew up without a grandfather. He passed before I was born but I will always cherish his stories.

Our dad, who enjoyed “modifying” our Seders, would (no doubt) have had quite the riff on the plagues this year. He was a proud Vet. Everything that’s going on right now in this country would have killed him. But COVID got him first.

Our love of baseball started with our dad. He would tell us about his playing stickball–this old fashioned version of baseball–when he grew up in New York City. He used a broomstick as a bat and a rubber ball and it was a very popular sport back in the day. The rules were the same as for baseball. It was played locally as the streets became the ball field. Johnny and I grew up loving baseball too. I have such fond memories of our dad taking us to see the Mets at the Polo Grounds as young kids … Johnny and I went to many N.Y. Mets games together at Shea Stadium and watched so many games on TV together.

For Johnny’s 60th Birthday I took him to the National Baseball Hall of Fame in Cooperstown, NY. We loved the museum’s collection of historic baseball artifacts, photographs, and documents. This trip was one of so many wonderful memories of my brother.

About a week before he died, we were looking forward to baseball season and going to future games together. Tragically he died of Covid, on a ventilator, on April 11, 2020. I lost my brother and best friend and I miss him everyday. I hope for Johnny’s sake and my dad’s sake they have baseball in heaven.

When I think about five years ago, in the month of March, I never could have believed that April would turn my life and countless others into such grief. I lost my husband on April 14, 2020–a call from the hospital at 5:20 telling me he passed when I was just speaking with him at 4:10. How could this disease reek such havoc in a matter of an hour?

I have been one of the lucky ones.I have a support system in place with Covid survivors and with my Covid group the WTF on Monday evenings. At a moments notice I can call them day or night and they understand.

It is a horrible feeling to feel so lost without your person and to try and make a new life. It’s been five years but I know that he isn’t coming back and I have to choose life. To live and not to just exist. But Covid still is hell and will continue because no one cares and they didn’t care then. If you weren’t touched then you just made sourdough bread.

My mom may be gone, but her memory lives on in my heart. She was the best—always knowing how to make me smile, offer a comforting hug, or engage in meaningful conversations. Though it’s been five years, the pain feels like yesterday. Covid took her, but I’ll forever cherish the memories we built together.
-Pablo Lopez Jr.

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Mommy’s story is that although we were no longer children, as a mother she still cared and was aware of us. She always kept us in his prayers. We also had to ask him for the blessing because if she didn’t, he’d take it out in your face. She was such an amazing mom.
-Rosa I. Santiago

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One memory I won’t ever forget about mom is when she was staying over at my place. She was cooking one of her great meals one night when all of a sudden, I heard her singing and dancing. I started video recording her without her realizing it, and when I finally spoke, she got startled, but immediately, we both started laughing. I look at that video from time to time. It brings a smile to my face, along with the tears of not being able to see her do it, once more, for me to see. One day, we’ll both share that memory, and just like that day, we’ll both laugh once again!
-Omar Lopez

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One of my treasured memories of my mom is when she come over to my place. Two to three times a week, since we live nearby. I would catch a glimpse of her through the window, bag in hand, carrying freshly baked bun bread for our breakfast together. Those mornings were filled with laughter and love as we cooked, chatted, and shared stories. Afterwards, we’d take leisurely strolls around the park or nearby shops, enjoying every moment together. This heartwarming ritual is forever etched in my memory and my mom’s loving spirit.
-Beverly Rosario

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My mom was a true angel during my pregnancy. She’d cook my cravings at any hour, just to see me smile. Every night, she’d send me a goodnight text or voicemail, her soothing voice whispering words of love. Even now, I treasure those voicemails, replaying them to hear her loving tone and feel her warmth. Her unwavering love and care are memories I’ll forever hold close to my heart.
-Ruth D. Lopez