Our German grandmother always lived with my brother and I. Weeks before Easter, she would blow out the contents of many eggs and dry them out to get them ready to paint. My brother and I loved painting the eggs so colorfully and then tying them to bushes with ribbons in our backyard. We had a lot of help doing this and we got more paint on our clothes than on the eggs. Many times small branches were put in a vase indoors with painted eggs tied with ribbons. Our parents helped with this annual Easter family event. The colorful eggs were so festive and represented new life.

It is so sad and painful that Johnny died of Covid on the eve of Easter.

On April 7, 2020, my older brother, Wilmard went into the hospital. It was during Easter Week. He was intubated approximately 15 hours after being admitted. He sent a video from his hospital room. He had an oxygen mask on, but he told us that there was fluid in his lungs. He said, “this is not good.” That was the last verbal communication we had with him.

The rest of the communication was via texts. Our family felt helpless because we couldn’t be there for him. It was Easter Week and we prayed hard, hoping for a miracle. I remember texting him every day although I knew he couldn’t answer. But I hoped his phone was near enough for him to feel our love and prayers. I played the song, “The Blessing” when I couldn’t pray anymore. I prayed novenas and tried to stay as positive as I could. Wouldn’t a miracle during Easter Week bring our brother back?

Three years later and the memories and the pain come gushing back like a tidal wave. It sweeps us under the current and we have to push ourselves up with all of our being to get above water. It is exhausting. But how exhausting must it have been for my dear brother who fought so hard but didn’t get above the water.

I am still so sad and angry at the same time. How I wish we could have been there for him and helped him push through. How I wish we could’ve held his hand, prayed with and for him and given him that extra push so he could survive this. He was always there for us. He loved us. He advised us. He guided us. He prayed for us. He encouraged us. And, in the end, COVID ripped away any chance we had to be there for him. We were left with so many emotions and yet those emotions don’t amount to what he had to endure.

I pray my brother saw the eyes of the Lord when he passed three days after Easter Sunday on April 15, 2020 alone in a New York hospital. I pray our Dear Lord welcomed him with open arms right alongside our parents. I pray my brother is at peace because I’m still trying to find it. My prayers are with all who lost loved ones to this horrible virus. May God bless each and everyone. And to my dear brother in heaven, I love and miss you with all my heart. Please watch over your children, grandchildren, your wife, siblings and the rest of our family.

Happy Easter, from your sis.

There are no doctors in the office this morning. One of the staff brought her daughter to work. We planned an Easter egg hunt for her. Watching her run around searching for the eggs brought back memories of when Mike and I would have Easter with our kids.

Of course there was the traditional coloring of the eggs and the hunt. The memory that will always make me smile is when Mike would play “crack the egg” with the kids. He was the biggest kid of all! And he had a “secret” that would always make him the winner. He only shared this secret with our daughter. Her brothers would get frustrated when she would win every time. The eye wink between Noelle and Mike is something I will never forget. They shared this special pact of fun, silliness and love for all the Easter’s they had together. As a grown woman, she always looked forward to playing “crack the egg” with her Dad. Mike made our lives so much fun. We miss him every day.

4.2.23
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My Daddy, Jorge Vilchez, was the sweetest and most loving person. 4/2/23 will make three years since he lost his battle to this horrible virus. He beat cancer and many other injuries, but Covid took him in 15 days.

I was 39 when my dad passed and he always made me feel like his little girl. He would tell me, “Jenn, even when you make me a grandpa you’ll always be my little girl.” Guess what? I made him a grandpa and I remained being his little girl.

Thank you for being such an amazing husband to mommy, Daddy, and even better grandfather to all your grandkids. You are loved and missed tremendously by all of your loved ones. Forever in my heart …

Rob Miller was a young, hard working man who lived for his family. He was both stubborn and kind. Though he lived a modest life, he was proud of everything he had and all he had accomplished during his short time on earth. He had many friends and was always ready to help someone in need.

As the days go by, many people who knew Rob still can’t believe he’s gone. They think about him daily with an emptiness in their heart and a deep ache that they know will never be healed.

We miss you Rob. Rest in Peace