When I think of my Mom, I hear her laughter. She had the most wonderful laugh that filled up a room with joyful, loving energy. I recently asked many close friends and family what they remember and miss most about my Mom and they always say it’s her laugh and her heart of gold.

She is also remembered for being a die-hard, lifelong Chicago Cubs fan and she passed down her love for the Cubs and game of baseball to me. The night the Cubs won the World Series we called each other immediately (it was after midnight and of course my Mom was still awake and watching every second). We were both laughing and crying and jumping for joy together, over the phone, she in Chicago and me in Phoenix. She was so happy, and it meant so much to her because it meant so much to the generations of our family that she loved, to the city that she loved, and for the memories that we have had over the years (win or lose and of course there was a lot of losing!) going to Cubs games at Wrigley Field in Chicago and for spring training in Arizona.

My Mom, Fran Kapp, died of Covid-19 on 11/27/2020. She would be here today sharing her heart and laughter, and of course, rooting for the Cubs, if Covid hadn’t taken her. She will always be loved, and the sounds of her laughter will forever be filling our hearts.

Mi papi’s dancing was terrible! He would throw himself on the floor and I would always think “Yep, this is it. He won’t be able to get up.” But he always did. And that is who he was. He always got up. He always kept going. That fight against all odds was his gift to me. I miss him. #Eljefe #ElAbuelo#MiPapi#Tio #ElAmordemimadre

My husband of 43 years gained his wings 12/09/2020. We loved to spend time together taking long walks on the beautiful beaches in Florida. Our 11 grandchildren loved to join us at any given time and just talk and walk, looking for shells, handing us silly little broken ones but he would say how beautiful they are. He spent hours with his family and loved to drink wine and have cheese and crackers with his adult children and me in the evening. He was from Uruguay and loved to visit there as often as he could. We loved to travel. He had a laugh that would make us all join in and a smile in his eyes that lit up a room. We cared for foster children for over 35 years and he was so loving and caring to every baby that came to us. We miss him dearly and pray he is at peace with his family and friends all around.

It’s funny how days go by, and I don’t think about you not coming home or how you used to take care of us. We see masks everywhere. Paper masks on the ground, fancy masks on racks, but this mask, holds sentimental value. We were at the beginning of the pandemic. Everybody was selling masks on street corners that neighbors lovingly sewed to protect one another.

You were talking about going back to work even though you had preexisting conditions. I was so scared. However, I knew I could protect you thanks to this lady, so we stopped at the corner.

I picked up a plain navy one to go with your work shirt and a black one. If it were up to me, I would keep you safe. There was only enough money in my pocket to purchase masks for you to wear. I rubbed my fingers over the pretty light purple mask and exclaimed, “She made this mask for me.” I refused to buy it. You needed protection more than I.

I went to the car and waited for you to come back. You picked up only two masks that day, a dark blue mask and the pretty purple one that made me so happy. You told me, “I will wash this mask every day and be safe. You lit up at that mask.” I knew at that moment, and you so very loved me. You would do anything to make me smile.

I see a million masks a day, even in my own home. Since we lost you, I buy a box every month to protect myself even if I lost you anyway. I was thinking about how much I miss you and don’t have enough memories to keep you in my mind. I was cleaning out a drawer, and wow, that mask made me catch my breath. I choked back the tears. At that moment, I saw your face, eyes, and smile. It smelled like your hair. I felt you again. In this mask, I felt your presence. A mask brought back a million feelings and memories of the love you had for me. Yes, this virus took you from us.

Nevertheless, it cannot erase your memories. In a purple cloth mask, I found you again today. I carry you forever in my heart. I was reminded that you loved your children and me by doing everything in your power to live. You fought so hard and gave us all you could. You still do. We miss you, Ro.

A favorite holiday memory about my dad is a time we went out for brunch. After our orders were placed, the waitress served everyone except my husband, then she disappeared. My Dad also noticed that the pancakes were not served with syrup and there wasn’t any in sight. So as soon as my Dad saw the waitress, my Dad called her over. We thought for sure he was going to remind her that my husband still had not received his order. We were so wrong. The waitress wasn’t even at the table and my Dad’s finger was pointed down frantically waving around the table as he told the waitress of the urgent need for syrup. He never even mentioned my husband’s missing order! We then concluded that my husband is nothing more than chopped chicken liver compared to syrup.

We laughed so hard that every Christmas Eve when we ate at this restaurant, after our orders were placed, someone in the family would point their finger down and wave it frantically around the table saying, “syrup, syrup, syrup.”