I sold my 92-year-old mother’s home on Long Island this week, the home that she’d lived in since 1955 — but I should not have had to.

My mother wanted to stay in her home but no longer could since her son, who always lived with her and was her caretaker, died of Covid in April 2020. Loss of a child may be the worst trauma a parent can experience. No parent should ever outlive their child. My mother has a big open wound that never heals and it is a pain she has to try and live with.

Johnny was in short term rehab in a nursing home following surgery and was due to come home and should have. Instead, he caught Covid because of New York Governor Cuomo’s decision to require nursing homes to accept Covid-19-positive patients when New York’s hospitals were overflowing in the beginning of the Pandemic. Then the data was hidden about the deaths of nursing home residents.

My mother and I have to live with deep grief and outrage that such very poor judgment resulted in so many needless losses. My brother was only 65 and hopefully had many years left. My mother is still sharp and constantly asks me — where is the accountability and justice in all this? I tell her we are still working on it, which is true.

This September, Mike and I will have our 8th grandchild. I say the both of us even though Mike passed from Covid in April 2020 and he only held 3 of them.

Our family is growing and Mike is not here to experience the wonder of being a grandparent. When our first was born he bored everyone with pictures, and stories of their first smile, first step, etc. etc.

I should be happy that another little girl is coming into our family but I have such sadness that he won’t be here to brag a little bit more to whoever would listen to him!

Covid has taken so much from so many and now the world wants to return to normal as if nothing has happened. My grandchildren will never know this great man.

Dad was a proud WWII Vet, stationed at West Point during the War. No matter where in the world we were visiting, we always brought dad back chocolate. We were in Belgium in the Fall of 2019, so needless to say he made out very well in the chocolate department.

He always hid “the good stuff.” My mom is still finding chocolate squirreled away in some of the most unusual places in the house. His West Point hat still sits on the same table, frozen in time since Winter of 2020, and yes there is chocolate under the hat and there it will stay. I can’t walk into the house and see the hat without the memories flooding back.

We consider ourselves fortunate that he got to hold his first great-grandchild, born in January 2020. At least he got to meet her before our world blew apart. It was her photo that he looked at every morning while in the hospital to give him the strength to power through.

Sadly, he was no match for Covid. This little man with the big personality and incredible sense of humor, was a friend, the family anchor and sounding board for anyone who wanted to avail themselves of his wisdom. A visionary, he was part of an effort to bring healthcare to the countries of Liberia and Ghana in the 1980’s. His life was filled with some of the most amazing stories and adventures, all true.

He never officially stopped working. At the age of 92, he had just renewed his professional license so he could continue to volunteer in the local VA Residence providing a sympathetic ear, and sharing stories with the residents. I remember he was so concerned about the Vets when he was in the hospital. He worried about how they would get their glasses to them with him being out of commission for a while; he couldn’t wait to recover and get back to living his life.

That was my dad, always thinking of others. Not a day goes by that we don’t think of him.

Excerpt from a letter I wrote to mom in 2021, a year after Bobby was taken from us.

“I love you, mom and I really need you to help take the pain away. When I was little and my hands were cold, you would put them under your armpits to warm them up. You fixed my cold hands. Now that I think about it, it was kind of gross. Ha ha. Now I need you to fix my broken heart. Although I don’t think that is possible.”

I know everyone thinks their child is wonderful but Rob truly was a kind loving son.

He and I shared the love of the NY Giants as he and his father shared the love of NASCAR. Football Sundays were the best at our house. Rob and his buddies were always there. All rooting for different teams.

Rob always did for others especially if they were his elders. Rob tried to play Mr. tough guy but he had a tender heart that he shared with me many times. He had a sense of humor that could bring a smile to your face and make any moment better just by being himself.

Rob was a hard worker and very dedicated to his career at PSEG and was loved by his co-workers. Rob was a protective older brother to his sister Cait. Rob shared his life with Nicole. He was in the prime of his life making good money, had purchased a new beautiful home and enjoyed his “toys” up until this virus grabbed him.

It will be a year on Oct 16th 2022, that Rob was called home. He fought hard but God loved him more. In his memory, to keep it alive, we have started a fund to help the Hockey Team he played on at the school he graduated from. Can’t let this virus win so I will live for Rob and never stop saying his name.