We always enjoyed going to Las Vegas, but one trip was extra special. On this trip our daughter brought my mom out as a surprise. She had never flown on an airplane before and had just turned 80 years old. She experienced a lot of firsts that trip and Al made sure she enjoyed them all. Just being in Vegas, the lights, the food and Al knew all the best places to eat. He taught her how to play video poker, even being her eyes when she couldn’t see very well. For a week he made sure she saw all the sights. Oh, and all of this was while Mom was in a wheelchair. Al pushed her everywhere, helped her in and out of the van and never hesitated.

Mom’s favorite part of the trip? When he took her into Build a Bear! If you don’t know what that is, you go in pick out your bear, stuff it and get an outfit for it. It even comes with a birth certificate and the name you pick out. Mom had the best time there and asked Al if we could go again. Mom came home with three bears, from three different visits. Each visit with Al pushing her in that wheelchair, simply because she asked him to, and he loved her. Her favorite was a brown teddy bear she named Alan and dressed in a white sailor’s suit.

Alberto was born September 28, 1981. I met him when he was about five years old. Years later I would marry his dad. I inherited two stepsons. Little Al, as he was affectionately known, was the oldest.

He loved sports, working out and watching movies. But his greatest love was his son, Nicholas. Nicholas was his life. Al was a kind and gentle soul. He was the protector of the family. You needed something, you called Al. He drove us crazy, but we wouldn’t have it any other way. People gravitated to him because he really did have a way with words. He made friends very easily and had a beautiful smile.

Alberto began feeling sick around the end of August, beginning of September of 2021. He was hospitalized, intubated and passed two weeks later on September 20, 2021. His lungs and kidneys were severely damaged, and his beautiful heart couldn’t take it anymore and he passed. We never got to say goodbye. I was able to see him the day before he passed, but he was in a coma. I hope he heard me tell him to fight and how much I loved him. I will never know.

Almost three and a half years before, Al had been in a similar situation. He became very sick, and his oxygen levels dropped; he was intubated and in a coma for 11 days. He fought and survived. I thought he could do it again. I prayed that he could do it again, but he couldn’t.

I wanted to relive a memory we all shared with his youngest brother, my biological son, Michael. Al had been moved to a rehab center in Staten Island where we lived. He fought hard to regain his strength and all he wanted to do was surprise his little brother. I had arrived first with one of Al’s friends, and my son arrived later. When Michael went to hug him, Al stood up and gave him the biggest most loving hug. Michael didn’t know that his brother could get up, so it was really emotional. I really prayed for that same outcome in 2021. But God had other plans.

Al was tall, tough and strong. But really, he was a big teddy bear. I would get on his case all the time and he would just look at me with those beautiful eyes and give me that smile that would sometimes melt my heart. I really miss his smile. I miss his hugs and it makes me sad that his brothers and his son and friends no longer have him in their lives. Al loved his family and his friends.

His presence is missed every single day. We know he is with his dad now and is watching over us. He sends us signs. When he first passed away, the lights in my bedroom would turn off randomly. This happened for about two weeks. I know it was him. That butterfly that flew by me just a few minutes after learning of his passing was him. The cologne his girlfriend smelled was him. And those random songs that play while my son is driving is him.

We love and miss you very much Al. Rest in peace and keep sending those signs.

We grew up three miles from Shea Stadium (now Citifield). Our Dad was a huge Mets fan, and we spent many summer days and nights with him at the games. We were a Mets family, as two of my siblings were vendors who roamed the stadium selling popcorn or hot dogs.

One of Dad’s favorite moments was from the 1969 World Series. He attended the final game and when the Mets emerged victorious, he along with hundreds of others ran onto the field. He was able to grab a piece of the infield grass which he took home and promptly planted in our front yard. The neighborhood kids loved it –- rubbing their baseball gloves on it for good luck. The story even made its way into “Put it in the Book” –- NY Mets broadcaster Howie Rose’s publication which gives a “behind the scenes” look at the team from Flushing, NY.

Dad was a very early victim of Covid-19. He died on March 25, 2020 –- before we appreciated the importance of masks, before vaccines were available. We all miss him terribly, especially when watching his team –- the Amazins. During the 2020 baseball season, we were able to use a picture of Dad (in his Mets cap and jersey) to create a cardboard cutout which was placed in a seat in the stadium. The cutout is now back in my house for safekeeping, and it is a wonderful reminder of a loving father we lost too soon.

On 2/13/2020 my husband had a stroke. No one knew the world would shut down a few weeks later, and with him in a coma and I not being able to visit … it was unbearable. Mom said she’d get me through all of it if it was the last thing she did. Four months later, John came home. I thought our little world could get back to normal. The last person we thought who would get it was mom; she was homebound and has medical visits at home. At the time, we lived in Delaware, and decided to stay secluded for Thanksgiving and Christmas … “there’s always next year.”

On January 5th in the afternoon, I got a IM from my brother that mom was going to the ER — nothing new, she had medical problems and sometimes the home visit nurse would say hospital was needed. A couple hours later, I got a message from my sister-in-law: “So your mom is Covid positive. Jason (my brother) hasn’t really been able to talk to anyone, but looking at her blood work it looks like she has tested positive for sepsis. She also has another UTI finding nitrates, proteins and blood in her urine. She has had one chest x-ray that shows signs of infectious/inflammatory disease mainly on her left. They are doing another one at 5:30. They have given her steroids to open up her lungs and started her on remdesivir with 100% oxygen. Jason is scared out of his mind. He keeps saying he is going to lose her. She isn’t responding to the remdesivir or the convalescent plasma. I just spoke with the doctor. They don’t think she will make it through the night. If you guys want to see her you would have to make the decision to take her off the breathing machine and put her on comfort care first. Then they would allow visitors.”

My reply: “As much as I’d like to, I just think we better stay home. I’m assuming the same type of arrangement are made for mom as was dad (cremation), and if so, could someone just take a picture of her for me. Between John (my husband) and my health issues(lupus), I just can’t risk us having problems arise after everything we dealt with last year. As long as she’s comfortable and in no pain I can live with that.”

Within eight hours, exactly 30 months to the day our dad passed away unexpectedly in the hospital on what was supposed to be his discharge date, I woke up out of a dead sleep at 3:23 am and this was waiting: “She’s with your dad now, resting easy. We just made it back to the hospital so Jason can see her. She passed a little after 2am.”

Annetta “Chris” Christine Martin (nee Baldwin) of Seven Valleys, Pennsylvania and formerly of Waverly, Maryland unexpectedly passed away on Wednesday, January 6, 2021. She was the beloved wife of the late Charles Lee Martin whom she was married to for 45 years before his sudden passing in 2018; cherished mother of Brandee L. Holmes and her husband John, Jason R. Martin and his wife Amanda, and Stacie L. Spahr and her husband Kenneth; proud grandmother of Rebecca Plantholt, John David Holmes, Cameron Martin, Maddisyn Pickett and Kayleigh Pickett; great-grandmother of Isabella Grace and Ian George; treasured sister of Dale Baldwin and Joseph Baldwin; step daughter of Pat Baldwin. Chris also leaves behind her cherished furbaby, Jaxson and many other extended relatives and dear friends.

It’s rather challenging to know someone cares about you. Then you get a call from John, who is a friend to that someone, wanting to know if you’ll go out with him?

The answer to that soon.

First let me tell you during this time that, that someone Al, was making pizzas on the weekends at a pizza place.

Not a big deal, except that you find out he had taken pizza over to one of your girlfriend’s – Pam …
and brought you the leftovers.

Really? I guessed I’d have to go out with John. So I said yes. Oh, and that call from John asking me out? Al was sitting right next to him the whole time and was sure I would say no. He wasn’t too happy I’d said yes.

In the end it didn’t matter. We both knew we were each other’s someone.