A little over 6 years ago, Trump promised our country that Covid would be gone by Easter. Almost 6 years ago Covid was not gone but my brother Johnny was. He died on Easter in 2020 of Covid-19. Who in our country’s leadership do we believe? Who in our country’s leadership will protect us?

This year I attended the Sixth Annual Lighting Ceremony at the Covid-19 Memorial Rami’s Heart in Wall, New Jersey.

Where did 6 years go? It seems like it was yesterday that people were making sourdough bread and complaining that they couldn’t go out while the remainder of us suffered in silence and in solitude.

There were 35,000 people who lost their lives in New Jersey and no one even remembers them. They used before Covid as a time that they had restrictions on them and had not had a loss so unbelievable that it changed them forever.

I was fortunate to be surrounded by people at the Memorial who understand it all — the 6 years, my heartache.

Ed and Marla drove together with me and it still takes your breath away to see all those stones in the yellow hearts.

How life can change so quickly and yet people forget that Covid even exists.

Today, Saint Patrick’s Day, my brother would have been celebrating his wedding anniversary, but he’s not here and I’m really pissed off about that.

It has been 6 years since my brother Johnny died of Covid-19 on April 11, 2020. I have so many fond memories of Johnny and me going to so many beaches growing up on Long Island from early childhood throughout adulthood. One of our favorites was Jones Beach known for its 6.5 miles of white sandy beaches along the Atlantic Ocean with a 2 mile lively boardwalk. It is one of Long Island’s largest and most popular beaches. It truly offered a quintessential beach experience for us and all our friends. It was our slice of Paradise catching rays of sun and riding big waves. I can still see Johnny catching a wave and sitting on top of the world as sung by the Beach Boys.

My brother Johnny and I had a wonderful relationship. We could look at each other and communicate without words. We were great supports for each other since we were toddlers together. We both made each other feel like we always mattered. We were there for one another throughout our lives and had unconditional love.

When Johnny died of Covid-19 almost 6 years ago, I felt a good part of myself died too. Yet I felt his loss happened to my mother, which of course it did, and felt like my pain and grief did not matter. I put myself on the back burner and so did everyone else. Yet I found a sibling death devastating. I discovered sibling grief, especially when older, is often ignored, overlooked, minimized and disenfranchised . Yet my relationship with Johnny, my only sibling, was the longest relationship I shared with anyone since my father had passed and my mother had significant dementia. I lost someone who shared our deepest and earliest memories and years together. I was now an only child struggling for 6 years to manage a very ill mother with dementia without my brother. I was relieved that mother always thought Johnny was still alive and I would go along with her belief. I kept appropriately protecting my mother and often neglecting my own grief. I also continued to feel guilty that I made the decision to place my bother in a nursing home for short term rehabilitation following surgery. My brother had no partner so I was his Health Proxy. However I did not know that Covid-19 was significantly present in this nursing home and no one had warned Johnny or I. I still felt responsible that I failed him and should have sent him home with an aide and home therapists. The worse decision I ever made in my life. I sent him into a lions den of death.

Now when I know someone who lost a close sibling I understand their loss and I am there for them. I make sure I acknowledge their loss, their pain and their grief so it is not put on the back burner and neglected.