I met Jody on Sunday, June 28, 1987. An early morning thunderstorm had chased away a prolonged period of heat and humidity and left behind an azure blue sky. It was at the Dance on the Pier that followed the annual Heritage of Pride March in New York City. While waiting to meet up with friends, I saw a tall, smiling, young man walking toward me. “Hi, I’m Jody,” he said. “I’m Ed,” I replied. That was the start of a relationship that persevered for thirty-three years.

Over the next few weeks and months, we got to know about each other. We laughed because, in so many ways, we were opposites. Jody was born in Florida and raised in Texas. I came from Massachusetts. Jody was always spur of the moment while I always wanted things to be planned out in advance. I valued promptness while Jody figured we would get there when we got there. There were so many ways we were different. But it was those differences that glued us together.

During those first two months together, I noticed that when we were walking together, Jody would frequently veer off toward the left. He also started to complain of blind spots in his field of vision. He underwent many tests and several months later he was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis. Within two years, the MS had progressed to the point where he needed to use a wheelchair full-time. Throughout the rest of his life, he promised that he would walk again. He exercised daily to keep his legs strong. His determination is one of the things I miss about Jody. When he set his mind to something, he accomplished it.

Another aspect of Jody that was so endearing was his love of animals. Around the time he was diagnosed with MS, one of his neighbors had beaten a young cat, broken its pelvis and dumped it in the hallway of Jody’s apartment building. Jody found the cat, which he named Quito, and nursed her back to health. They were forever bonded and when she passed many years later Jody was crushed. I think they had been destined for each other at a time they both needed someone.

Over the years, Jody and I rescued nearly fifteen other cats and two dogs. I will always remember his gentleness with them. Among his favorites was a Russian Blue that Jody named Smokey. When we first met her at the shelter, Smokey reached her front paws up around his neck and buried her head against his chest. That sealed the deal. I look back and smile at the number of times I found Jody napping with Smokey wrapped in his arms. Another funny story comes to mind. Jody used an electric scooter that gave him the freedom to get outside and live independently. When our first dog got old and arthritic, Jody would lift her onto the platform of his scooter and drive her around the neighborhood, stopping now and then to let her step off and take care of business. The dog’s name was Daisy and all the neighbors kidded Jody about his version of “Driving Miss Daisy.”

In recent years, Jody’s MS worsened and he needed help with day-to-day activities. Because his vision was not so good, he enjoyed watching television. He was an aficionado of Star Trek in all its incarnations. He used to drive me crazy because he would recite the dialogue before it happened in the program. I was never a fan of Star Trek, but I find myself missing watching those shows with him.

2020 arrived along with COVID-19. We did everything to protect ourselves. We isolated at home. I only went out to buy groceries for the week, masked and gloved and physically distanced. It turns out that was not enough. By Easter, Jody had developed a high fever. I called 911 and the EMT’s explained that his lungs and blood oxygen levels were okay. When asked if he wanted to go to the hospital, he said no, he would be fine. But within three days, his breathing became labored and his blood oxygen levels dropped to a dangerous level. He had to go to the hospital. As the EMT’s loaded him into the ambulance, he waved to me and called out that he would be home soon. There was that determination again. He would walk again. He would be home soon. As the ambulance drove off, I wished I had that same confidence.

Just before Jody passed on April 19, 2020, I was allowed to go to the hospital to see him. I was lucky. He was in a coma but I believe he was waiting for me to come to say goodbye. He passed peacefully right after I left. That was his last act of love. For thirty-three years, I thought I was the one caring for him. But, in the end, it was Jody who looked out for me. When I think of him now, I see him running around with Quito and Smokey and Daisy and our other pets who have passed. He is definitely walking again. Promises kept.

My Dad and Mom were together since senior year. This year was their 49th anniversary. On Jan 26th, they both were picked up by 2 different ambulances, taken to 2 different hospital. Dad was intubated within a day, Mom on Feb 7th. On Feb 8 at 12:34, Covid took our mom, dad’s queen. Somehow he knew, and followed her at 4:13 am, a few hours later. Dad did not want a world without his reina. Days later, my siblings and I buried them together. Together forever. Miss you Mom and Dad. Till we meet again!

When my mom, dad, and my brother Keith died, a part of me died too. It was an honor and privilege to be the daughter of Dan and Irene and the sister of Keith. My brother Kevin and I were blessed to be part of such a kind and loving family. Let me tell you about who we lost:

My mother, Irene Cruz, was my best friend. Whenever anything happened in my life – good or bad – my mom was the first person I wanted to speak to. We spoke every day and she always made time for me and said just the right thing. She had me when she was very young and she made a lot of sacrifices to give me a good life. She always wanted the best for me. Ever since I was a little girl, she encouraged me in everything I did. It was important to her to instill in me the idea that I could achieve anything I set my mind to.

My mother was caring and selfless, took care of everyone, and always put her family’s needs first. I used to say, “Mom, you should do more things for yourself,” but she wouldn’t hear any of it. She didn’t like anyone telling her what to do.

My mom was my rock. I am lost without her and my heart aches to talk to her. I learned so many things from her and I could not have asked for a better mother. If I needed anything, she and my dad would drop everything to come and bring me whatever they thought would be helpful.

They were married for 52 years and were extremely devoted to each other. When my father, Arthur “Dan” Cruz, was young, he would wash his car every day when Irene was walking home from school just to see her walk by. And when he fell in love with my mom, he chose to be my dad. “You will always be my girl,” he would tell me.

My father was fiercely protective of me and I cannot recall a time that he wasn’t there for me. When I went through a divorce, he postponed his retirement so that if I needed any help financially, he would be able to take care of me. He was my absolute hero, the smartest man I’ve ever known. He could fix anything, figure out anything. I was amazed by everything he could do. He was kind and big hearted. He loved animals and even at times when he did not have a dog in the house, he continued to buy dog biscuits and fill his pockets with treats, just in case he might run into a dog that day.

My parents loved their grandchildren just as much as their children. They truly lived their lives for their family and would do anything for us. Every important moment of my life included mom and dad.

Like my dad, my brother Keith had a very tender heart. When we were little, he wanted nothing more than to just hang out with me and my friends. He would even let us dress him up – just so he could stay and play with us. I was seven when he was born. Then when Keith was five, Kevin was born. They were always best buddies and Keith looked out for Kevin. As they grew older, they shared the same friends and they would all gather at my parent’s house. Our home was full of love and laughter.

As a young adult, Keith would call and ask my advice on many things. He would take an hour to tell me a five minute story! He loved comic book collecting and sports. He was close to his nieces and nephews and I believe the greatest thing in his life was getting married and having children. His kids brought him great joy and he was incredibly proud of them. It breaks my heart to know that he will not get to see them grow up, graduate from school, get married, or one day even become a grandfather. But I know, with all of my heart, that he will be watching over them and his legacy will live on through them.

Although it is tragic that we lost mom, dad, and Keith within nine days of each other, it’s important that they be remembered for how they lived and not the way they died. My parents had a love like no other and loved my brother dearly. They would not have been able to be apart. One comfort I have is that they did not know each other had passed so they never had to go through that pain. God knew they could not be without each other and so brought them home together. My dad ALWAYS said “Take care of each other” to us kids. So now I want to tell my dad to take care of mom and Keith. Kevin and I will take care of each other and make them proud. We love you and miss you: now, forever, always. Rest in peace until we meet again. Take care of each other.