My brother Joe relished his title of “uncle”.
He wore it like a crown.
It brought no power, no property, no money.
Only the pure and gentle love of a little girl.
He often referred to himself as Uncle Joe.
When he telephoned, he would say “Hi guys. It’s Uncle Joe calling to see how you are.”
“Uncle Joe is coming to visit next weekend.”
“Would you like to go to a museum in the city with Uncle Joe?”

Uncle Joe and Joanne were like two peas in a pod.
They were best friends from the start.
The first time they met was a few weeks after I returned from China.
Joe took the bus from New York to visit us.
I was sitting outside on the front lawn with Joanne and Lucky, my dog.
When Joe came walking up the front sidewalk,
he looked at Joanne and said, “She’s a doll”.
It was the beginning of the “mutual admiration society.”

Like the twin stars, Pollux and Castor, they were drawn to each other
with a constant and steady pull.
Their shared orbits witnessed numerous events in their lives …
birthdays, holidays, vacations, swim parties and dance recitals.
They read books together and they built doll houses together.
They attended Broadway shows together.
They visited art museums together.
Uncle Joe was present at Joanne’s Baptism, her First Communion, and her Confirmation.
He was going to walk her down the aisle when she married.

Joanne brought an abundance of light to Joe’s life.
She managed to push all his dark clouds away with her two tiny hands,
her sweet little kisses, her precious hugs, and her delicious giggles.
And Joe brought so much light to Joanne’s life.
He was her uncle, her playmate, her companion, her best friend.
She squealed with delight when Uncle Joe came to visit.
She watched for him by her bedroom window.
When she saw him walking down the driveway, she would scream,
“Uncle Joe’s here!” and run to greet him at the front door.

Their shared light cast a glow on the other.
They beamed so brightly in each other’s presence.
Uncle Joe will always be a part of Joanne’s star
and Joanne will always be a part of Joe’s.
These two stars whose orbits intersected with one another
will never drift apart.
Their light will shine on the other forever.
Their pull toward each other will never end.

My brother was an architect. As part of his professional development, he attended conferences. On one occasion, there was a drawing at a conference. The attendees put their business cards in a glass bowl and the card that was picked would win a weekend in the city, including a stay at the Waldorf Astoria, dinner for two and tickets to a Broadway show. My brother’s business card was selected, and, instead of using it for himself, he gave the winning ticket to me. He said, he wanted to thank me for taking care of our mother before she passed away. The Waldorf Astoria was breathtaking! The dark, oak wood in the lobby and the oriental rugs were stunning. I couldn’t help but think about all the famous people who had stayed there. Joe and I went to dinner together and afterwards attended a showing of the Broadway play, “Showboat”. It was a memorable weekend spent with my brother and I remember tenderly his kindness and his generosity.

I often told my brother how I loved the opera and would be thrilled to go to The Metropolitan Opera House in the city. He agreed to go with me. We had dinner at an Italian restaurant. I expected a traditional Italian meal, but my brother had other ideas in mind. When I ordered ravioli, I received a plate of black ravioli. My brother told me the ravioli were made from octopus! I hate to think what the filling was made of. Trying to be polite, I did my best to finish my meal. Joe was filled with mischievous giggles throughout, telling me how this was a trendy restaurant. We took a cab to Lincoln Center. Joe knew my suburbanite’s fears of Manhattan, and he never made me take the subway. “Madame Butterfly” was wonderful. We left just before the end. Joe wanted to get me home early. On our way outside, someone was looking for tickets. I tried to give my ticket to him, but Joe rushed me away telling me not to talk to strangers! I remember fondly my brother’s kindness, his wicked sense of humor and his protectiveness.

During the 1980s, I met Joe and his wife, Cheryl in the city several times. One time, I took the train from Ridgewood to the station in the World Trade Center. I was expecting to find a typical train station. I was completely surprised by what I was found when I arrived. It was like a huge shopping mall underground. There were shops, businesses, kiosks, and numerous escalators. On my visit, Joe took me upstairs and inside the lobby of the World Trade Center. The building seemed dull and boring to me. Joe explained the simplicity and complexity of the design of the windows. On September 11, 2001, that train station was one of my first thoughts. I thought about all the people in the station stopping to get a newspaper or a cup of coffee that morning on their way to work. The shop keepers opening their stores for the day’s business, checking their inventory in back rooms, vendors making their deliveries completely unaware of the events above ground.

When my daughter, Joanne came along, we continued to visit Joe in the city. Her first visit to a museum was The Metropolitan Museum of Art. Joe accompanied us on this trip. He met a friend there named Mariska. She was Joe’s friend, Selim’s girlfriend. They were happy to see one another. He kissed her gently on the cheek and introduced me and Joanne to her. She told us she had heard so much about us from Joe. I thought to myself, how wonderful it was to have a friend like Joe. Joanne’s first Broadway show was “Beauty and the Beast” and Joe attended the play with us. We had lunch together prior to the play. When we arrived at the theatre and found our seats, Joe left and got Joanne a booster seat so she would have a better view of the stage. He joined us on our visits to The Bronx Zoo, the Museum of Modern Art, and the Haydn Planetarium. Now that he is gone, I am so grateful that we made all those memories of my brother Joe with my daughter Joanne.

Luis had the BIGGEST HEART that anyone could have! He always did everything he could to help and be there for everyone in his life. He was so STRONG and fought through adversities while never giving up. His nephews looked up to him and he was always there to support and love them!

For the last 8 years, Luis made my life perfect by choosing to be with me. He is my partner in life and no one means more to me in this world than he does. I miss him and think about him every single moment of every day. I love him with all my heart.

On December 9, 2020 we all found out my mother-in-law and her disabled son tested positive for Covid-19. Her personal care worker had come to work sick with no mask. The service didn’t even apologize or help her get stuff.

We were diagnosed on December 11, 2020 — my husband, me and our granddaughter. She was sent to the hospital by me on the 18th of December and then was sent to the rehab for quarantine. She had little interaction with staff and the day she came out of quarantine she was diagnosed with double pneumonia. She didn’t even make it to her room at the nursing home, on December 26, 2020. She was put on a bipap machine and her oxygen was turned all the way up. Instead of helping her, the nursing home gave her speech therapy though she couldn’t breathe right.

On January 1, 2021 her lung collapsed. She held out till January 4th at 5 am when she died. She refused machines because she didn’t want her son to have to take her off. She died less than a month after being diagnosed. I blame the health care at the nursing home. And the hospital for transferring her too soon.

My dad was a great father until I was 12, when he remarried and moved a continent away. For the next 38 years, we got glimpses of who he really was when he visited we kids, alone. I hate that he had to hide himself from us when he was with his wife. Yes, it was his choice, but I wish he’d made different choices. He died of a preventable, treatable condition but he delayed treatment out of fear of getting COVID (pre-vaccine).

The person in his life who should have been compassionate and helpful blocked us in every attempt to have information about his condition or talk to him, but I’m grateful to nurses who helped us gain access at the last minute so I could have a precious, final 2-minute call with him. What upsets me most is that we loved him so, SO much, but he couldn’t let us in. I believe that people come into our lives to learn a lesson, and sadly, I don’t think Dad did. I hope that whatever comes next for him gives him the freedom to learn what he needs to learn, but in the meantime, I am so sad. I miss him. I missed him when he was alive, and now I miss the lost opportunity to even try to get him to let me in.