My brother Johnny loved animals and he loved to rescue them. When we were kids he would rescue injured birds, cats, turtles, and hamsters. When Johnny died of Covid-19 he left behind a grieving family including his beloved rescue cats, Angel and Grizzly. My daughter Caitlin and I tried for many months unsuccessfully to find new homes for Johnny’s cats. There were no organizations or shelters that were available for older cats since Grizzly was 16 years old and her daughter Angel was 15 years old.

Grizzly and Angel meant the world to Johnny and we could not give up hope. Luckily we finally discovered SAFE House Animal Rescue and Sanctuary and they agreed to take Johnny’s cats. It was such an overwhelming sense of relief that his cats would be safe and well taken care of. Everyone at SAFE House has gone above and beyond to provide a comfortable and loving environment and we love seeing the updates and videos of Grizzly and Angel. Johnny is smiling down from heaven.

I wanted a house, he wanted a pool in the backyard. I didn’t want a pool, but I couldn’t say no. So in the blazing heat of summer, 2003, the pool contractor coerced men to dig and sculpt and craft a pool where once lay the beautiful lawn Tom had grown from seed.

It was a filthy, messy, dusty endeavor. Day by day, Tom pressed his face against the glass door watching his dream come to life. Labor Day arrived and the pool was ready for water. He stayed up all night ensuring the plaster was equally wetted as it cured. Tom loved that pool the way I loved my newborn babies. He nurtured it, cleaned it, monitored the chemicals, repaired the valves when they faltered and replaced the fins in the filter as they filled with debris. Every day for 17 years his first thought on rising from his slumber was “is the pump running?” After wishing me a good morning and filling his cup with hot, black coffee, Tom would head outside to visit with the embodiment of his chlorine scented dreams.

When we designed our desert oasis, Tom and I agreed that we must have a long, wide step for our yet unborn grandchildren. The designer talked us into a loveseat just for us in the deep end. We added a broad deck for sunbathing and a variety of other amenities to make this a place we would always enjoy. And we did. For 17 springs, summers, and autumns, the pool was our gathering point. The year our first grandchild was growing in her mother’s womb, Tom and I installed a fence — ourselves! We worked side by side digging great holes for posts he filled with concrete to ensure their stability. He learned how to cut through the aluminum frame to make each panel fit just right. We hung the gate then added more locks to be sure it was always safe for the the little child we didn’t yet know.

When the babies started coming, Tom taught each of them to swim. Not a fancy swim stroke, simply how to float and dog paddle and move their arms to propel themselves safely to the big step. He threw those babies high in the air, and I caught them, hugging them close to me until they were reaching out again to Poppa. As the kids grew, they hijacked the sunbathing deck for a cannonball contest platform. Peals of laughter rang out endlessly those summers. Barbecues smoked our dinners nearby, wet towels festooned the shrubs. It was paradise.

At night, after the kids were gone, we would pour a glass of iced tea and head out again, hand in hand, to sit quietly in each other’s embrace on that loveseat our designer had insisted we include. We talked and talked about everything and nothing at all. We kissed like teenagers, drinking in our love for one another. 17 wonderful years of us and our pool.

Parkinson’s had come to call at our home. It soon became apparent that Tom couldn’t manage the pool alone, so we hired weekly help. The sun beat down on his afflicted head and caused him to faint, so he couldn’t swim during the heat of the day anymore. One by one, the pleasures became burdens. The pool became my nightmare as I feared it would swallow him up one day.

But then, Covid arrived. It took only 30 days to fell the gentle giant. To vanquish my hero, to steal my lover, to break my children’s hearts and put an end to Poppa’s amazing hugs.

I refused to let Tom die in the hospital, frightened and alone. Somehow, our family talked and cajoled until we convinced the doctors to let us take him home. On the evening of January 16th, those beautiful blue eyes winked goodbye to me and our children then Covid blew out the flame of life in a man so kind, so gentle, so humble that the fulfillment of his greatest dream lay in the crystal blue waters of his beloved 6’ 6” deep, 32’ long, 16’ wide custom built pool.

Rest In Peace, my love. I hope there is a pool where you landed.

My life changed the moment we met, and now, after 41 years together it has changed again.

I miss everyday all the simple things we did together from work, the kids, grandchildren to just simply sitting together on the couch watching TV. Nothing is the same. I miss having you always there to be by my side. I have experienced so many firsts without you. It’s been two and a half years and I miss you like it was the first day you were gone. I will always love and miss you, my love.

March 15, 2020: the first day we were all put on quarantine. I had fallen asleep on my parent’s couch. About 1 am I was awoken by beautiful music. I heard my dad walking around. He told me that he had been watching a Pavarotti concert, and was recording it on the DVR. He asked if I was ok, brought me a blanket, and a glass of water — just like when I was a kid. I jokingly told him I’m an adult, and could set myself up for bed. He told me “it’s my job being your dad.”

Four days later was the last time I saw my Dad, as he walked through the ER doors with a stranger. I relive that every day. Missing him.

Our Mom always wanted to make sure we were always safe. No matter how old we were, though we were grown with families of our own — she still worried. Whenever we rode with someone she would say “Safe travels, Precious Cargo.”

She would always call to say goodnight. I thought at times it was goofy and now that I am a Mom, I totally get it.

Oh what we would give to hear her voice again. And those hugs she loved to give — we miss them so much.

Good night in Heaven Mom — we are all in safe at home and ready to sleep. She would end the call with “Sweet Dreams to all.”

I hope we get to see her in our dreams.