San Antonio Express-News

‘Virus didn’t kill me, but it sure took my life’

- By Edgar Sandoval

EDINBURG — Days after her Thanksgivi­ng feast was prepared, served and eaten, Maribel Rodriguez tried to muster the will to unpack the tree, lights and decoration­s of boisterous Christmase­s past.

Instead, she found herself praying a rosary over the three wooden urns containing the ashes of her husband, her mother and an aunt, all of whom had shared a home with her.

“My husband was the one who used to set up the tree and dressed up as Santa every year,” Rodriguez said in a rural section of Edinburg, her voice echoing around the hacienda-style home that’s emptier now. “I can’t get myself to do it. I end up crying before I touch any of the ornaments.”

Her husband, Domingo Davila, 65, tested positive for the coronaviru­s in September after undergoing a leg amputation.

Within days, Rodriguez caught the virus, too, along with her mother, Maria Guadalupe Rodriguez, and aunt, Mirthala Ramirez.

Maribel Rodriguez recovered, but the others did not. In all, she has lost seven relatives to the virus since the pandemic took hold in the Rio Grande Valley.

“This virus didn’t kill me,” she said, “but it sure took my life.”

After a devastatin­g summer along the border region where family gatherings known as pachangas accelerate­d the spread of the virus, many families have had two, three or more casualties per household.

The death rate from the virus peaked at 5 percent and remains high in El Valle, as the mostly Latino population calls the sprawling valley that spans the Mexican border, representi­ng at least 2,168 funerals.

Nationally, the virus has killed less than 2 percent of those known to be infected.

Health officials blame a combinatio­n of poverty, lack of access to health careanda close-knit culture for the widespread infection within family clusters.

“Our reality is that our people are the sickest, and we can’t stay away from each other,” said Dr. Ivan Melendez, the health authority for Hidalgo County. “If you compare it to the rest of the country, the pandemic has been much more intense here.”

There are reasons the virus has been especially lethal in communitie­s here: It is common for multigener­ation families to live under the same roof — making social distancing nearly impossible — and older relatives tend to suffer from chronic preexistin­g medical conditions such as obesity and diabetes.

“From the beginning, we started seeing a lot of people being admitted, along with their sisters,

their uncles, their abuelas,” Melendez said.

The situation was worse in the summer, when there were up to 60deaths aday. Buthealth officials have seen a troubling surge following the Halloween and Thanksgivi­ng holidays. They’re expecting another spike after Christmas and New Year celebratio­ns. About 2,500 people are actively battling the coronaviru­s, county data shows.

The statistics became personal for Rodriguez. Waiting for a holiday that always has been a time of celebratio­n in her family, she caught herself unsettled by the loud clack of her shoes on the porcelain floor in place of the sounds of laughter and cheer.

With three housemates deceased, Rodriguez, 53, has decided to put the spacious two-story house up for sale. She quit her job as a

hospice nurse because the illness had taken a toll on her body, she said. She has been scraping by with donations and by selling tamales.

Back in the spring, she came home from a long shift to find her husband, D avila, who had long suffered from a lung ulcer and other illnesses, complainin­g of a spider bite on his right leg.

In the next few months it infected the bone, she said, he rejected going to a hospital because he feared getting the virus.

She tried to respect his wishes. But by late august, his leg had deteriorat­ed and needed to be amputated, doctors told her. Da vi latested negative for the virus before and after he had surgery, she said, but developed symptoms after he arrived at a rehabilita­tion facility.

“Hewas cold, and he told mehe was having fever,” she said. She

brought him a sweater to keep him warm.

Davila becameso ill that doctors told her she could bring him home. “They told me there was nothing more they could do,” she said. He died Sept 15.

It was a cruel demise for a man who was once known as the most popular dancer at the local club where theymet. Ontheir first date, she said, he was asked to dance by so many women that she almost walked out. After that day, he only danced with her.

Numerous photos of the happy couple, himin a cowboyhat, her in a sparkling dress, still decorate the house.

Days after he died, Rodriguez developed a cough that wouldn’t go away. It felt like an icy hand was squeezing her organs. When she collapsed into bed, her mother dragged her walker to her room to check on her.

“Are you OK, mija?” she said. It didn’t take long for her mother, 80, and aunt, 77, to contract the virus. Theywere taken within days of each other to DHR Health in Edinburg, gasping for air.

The sisters, who had spent nearly every hour of everyday next to each other, were intubated in the same intensive care unit, Rodriguez said. Her mother died the night of Oct. 12. Her aunt followed less than 24 hours later.

She’d barely cremated the three of themwhen the phone rang. The virus hadkilled fourother relatives in the area.

“How can this virus, something so small you can’t even see, take so much from you?” she said.

Families up and down the valley have experience­d the same thing since this summer.

The virus found its way into the Garcia home in San Juan, about 10 miles south of Edinburg, during the height of the region’soutbreak.

Priscilla Garcia, 39, is at a loss to explain how her father, Rolando Garcia, and her mother, Yolanda Garcia, two high school sweetheart­s who had been married nearly 50 years and rarely left home, had become infected.

“They went to the hospital the same day and never came back,” Priscilla Garcia said.

The couple, both 70, died within days of each other in early July. Garcia, who overcame the disease herself, said an aunt died in early August of the virus.

“It just happened so fast,” said Garcia, who’s a nurse. “You never think you are going to lose both your parents at the same time.”

She had worn a face mask while visiting her parents, she said. Still, the virus managed to infect her. And then her husband and her 2year-old daughter, who displayed minor symptoms.

On a recent day, Garcia visited her parents’ home, adorned with old family photos and plastic flowers. She chuckled as she caressed the two lovebird figurines in front of the wooden urns containing her parents’ ashes.

Whenever her mother would get angry at her father, she said, she would turn the female bird around, giving her back to the male bird. “That’s howhe knewhe was to stay away.” Now, they were back in the right direction.

 ?? Photos by Veronica G. Cardenas / New York Times ?? Maribel Rodriguez holds a photo of her and her husband, Domingo Davila, who died of COVID-19. Christmas is quieter in the borderland­s, where the coronaviru­s has ravaged families.
Photos by Veronica G. Cardenas / New York Times Maribel Rodriguez holds a photo of her and her husband, Domingo Davila, who died of COVID-19. Christmas is quieter in the borderland­s, where the coronaviru­s has ravaged families.
 ??  ?? The urns of Rodriguez’s husband, from left, her mother and her aunt are seen at the family home in Edinburg.
The urns of Rodriguez’s husband, from left, her mother and her aunt are seen at the family home in Edinburg.

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