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In the year since the World Health Organization declared a global pandemic, millions of families endured the excruciating rise and fall of the American epidemic – waves of illnesses that leave wounds untold. long after the reflux of hospitalizations and the decrease in infections.
For the Aldaco family of Phoenix, it shattered a generation of brothers.
The three men – Jose, Heriberto Jr. and Gonzalo Aldaco – were lost to covid, each at different times during the pandemic: first in July, then in December, and finally last month.
Their deaths are now among more than 530,000 in the United States, where, even though millions of people are vaccinated, the virus still leaves families mourning the further loss of a loved one every day.
“These three men, they led the family. They were like the strong pillars, the bones of the family. And now they are all gone,” said Miguel Lerma, 31, whose grandfather Jose Aldaco has him. raised like his own son.
To Lerma, their death feels like an epic American story of resilience, courage, and hard work. All three came to the United States from Mexico and over the decades have returned home for their families.
“They literally showed that you can come from nothing and struggle through it all and still build a life for you and your children,” Lerma said. “It just bothers me that this is how their story should end.”
Jose’s daughter, Brenda Aldaco, said that with so many Americans gone, the scale of each death and its reverberations run deep.
“When you really think about each person, each person individually, what did that person mean to someone? It’s just overwhelming. It’s overwhelming, ”she said.
A family “ ready to create memories ”
Jose Aldaco, 69 when he died, arrived in the Southwest in the early 1980s when Brenda was still a child, following her sister, Delia, and older brother, Gonzalo, both of whom had left Mexico shortly before him.
“They came here for a better opportunity – I don’t even mean a more comfortable life – but a more accessible and higher life than they had,” said Priscilla Gomez, Jose’s niece and daughter of Delia.
Gomez sees the three uncles as central figures – symbols of strength – to her and the entire extended family.
“They were so consistent, the most consistent male numbers for me,” Gomez said.
Large family reunions were a staple of life in Aldaco households.
“These three men, when they were in the same room, it was just a good time,” said Lerma, a dance teacher in Phoenix.
Reunions and vacations often turned into joyful, music-filled events, where Gonzalo, the eldest, pulled out the guitar and the family danced and sang together until the wee hours of the morning.
“If it was someone’s birthday, they would sing ‘Las Mañanitas’. … They were just always ready to create memories for us, ”Gomez recalls.
Lerma said that what José cultivated the most was a family where love and affection were the main motto. “He’s the one who taught us to be so in love,” Lerma said. “He was that warmth. He was that love for us.”
Wave after wave in Arizona
After a calm spring, the pandemic struck Arizona with terrifying force – the first of two waves tearing apart a state where pandemic precautions were slow in coming and quickly wiping out. Lerma said her family heeded the warnings.
“We were a family who accepted that the pandemic was real,” he said. “We took it seriously.”
Jose and his wife, Virginia, lived in their daughter Brenda’s home, where they helped raise their teenage grandson.
Brenda’s dad worked a few days a week at his job in a hotel restaurant, but was mostly retired. “He was perfectly capable – doing some yard work, cooking every day, jogging three times a week at the park,” said Brenda.
Despite the family’s efforts to stay safe, the virus found its way into their home that summer. Jose was the first to fall ill, but soon all four fell ill and isolated themselves in their rooms.
They waited for the test results. The two elders were getting worse. When the bedroom door was opened, Brenda’s son could hear his grandfather.
“My son would say, ‘Mom, grandfather does not sound good. … Looks like he’s dying, ”Brenda recalls.
However, she felt paralyzed. His mother was adamant that she didn’t want him to go to the hospital.
Eventually, Lerma, who lives separately and has no covid, put on a mask and came to convince Virginia and Jose to go to the hospital. Lerma found Jose lying in bed, covered with a sheet, with a searing fever.
“He was forcing quick breaths to try and get the air he could get into his lungs,” Lerma said. “That’s when I started to panic and lose him.”
Virginia and Jose were admitted to the hospital. A few days later, Virginia was doing well enough to return home, but Jose’s condition only worsened.
The last time Lerma saw him was about FaceTime, as Jose was rushed to hospital to be put on life support. “Losing my father, this that’s what grief is, ”Lerma said. “That’s what sad songs are about.”
Three brothers – “ men of the family ” – gone
By the time of Jose’s death, the virus had already killed around 150,000 Americans. Like so many other families, the Aldacos were unable to have a proper funeral.
“It was like his death had just passed under the rug, like it was just another statistic,” Lerma said.
Priscilla Gomez said she will never forget hearing her mother take the phone call when she learned of her brother’s death.
“Not being there in person to comfort them or to hold them back when they feel like they just want to throw themselves on the ground and sob… you feel completely helpless,” she says.
As the pandemic continued into the winter months, a new wave of infections and deaths gripped Arizona and much of the rest of the United States. , the total death toll in the United States had exceeded 300,000 and Heriberto Aldaco Jr. in the late 1950s – was now also hospitalized with covid.
“You think you’ve been to a particular point in your grief, and then it’s not over – here it is again. … Now my father’s little brother is sick,” said Brenda Aldaco. “Then he passes away.”
Less than two months later, even more heartbreaking news would reach the family.
The last remaining brother, Gonzalo Aldaco, the oldest in his early sixties, was hospitalized with a covid. He passed away in February.
Brenda Aldaco described her father and uncles as first and foremost “family men”.
“They were totally and utterly dedicated to the people they loved – always there, always someone you could count on,” she said.
Sometimes she always expects her dad to come home from the hospital: “It was just hard for me to understand the concept of ‘He’s gone’ … that the three are now gone and in the same circumstances and within six months. “
This story is the result of a reporting partnership between NPR and KHN.
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