THEIR LOVE STORY TURNED INTO A COVID-19 STORY

My parents, Juan Manuel Rodriguez Sr. and Blanca Estela Rodriguez, met in junior high at age 12. For my dad, it was love at first sight. He told everyone he was going to marry my mom someday. Mom was not interested, at first. But Dad persisted. As juniors in high school, they dated and broke up. As seniors, they got back together, and after high school, they married.

A year later, they started to have children. There are four of us: Blanca, Juan Jr., Anna and Cynthia. My parents were always together and held hands. They were like two lovebirds. Dad couldn’t be without Mom and vice versa. When Dad was a soccer coach at Mar Vista High School, Mom went to every single game. She was his No. 1 fan. When Mom became a federal agent, Dad went to Washington, D.C., to proudly stand by her as she graduated from the academy. They loved traveling, especially with the whole family. They loved music and would go to every Mariachi Vargas de

Tecalitlán concert together. All of us are huge Beatles fans because of our parents. Even their grandchildren are.

But their love story turned into a COVID-19 story on Jan. 19 because even though they were ill, their love story continued — even when the household tested positive. My parents, my sister Cynthia, my husband Abraham and I and our two sons all tested positive for the novel coronavirus that causes COVID-19. We were scared because we knew the risk for our parents. The first week we used over-the-counter medications to ease the symptoms. We used an oximeter to track oxygen levels. We felt sick, but we were managing. Then one day, our Mom told Cynthia to call an ambulance. Mom and Dad woke up with breathing issues. Both went to the hospital. Mom was taken to Kaiser Permanente Zion Medical Center and Dad to Kaiser Permanente San Diego Medical Center. Every day, we took turns calling

Velazquez is a former social worker and lives in Nestor.

the hospitals to check on our parents. We were hopeful.

Anna was able to talk to him and told him he was loved, but on Dad’s second day, he was intubated. He did not improve, but somehow he held on. My mom called us daily. We chatted in our group chat. We made plans with her. As horrible as it sounds, we knew deep down our dad would probably not make it. We thought Mom would be fine, and we concentrated on giving her hope. Days went by. Then Mom began to tell us she didn’t feel well.

On Feb. 7, my brother called us via Zoom with Dad’s doctor to say Dad would not make it through the night. We expected it but still couldn’t believe it. At 6 p.m. that day, Juan Jr. went to visit our father and initiated a Zoom call between us all, including Mom. We told him we loved him and thanked him for everything. We told him we would be OK and would take care of each other. Mom told him he was the love of her life. She thanked him for spending his life with her. She called him handsome. Mom told us she loved us. Before we hung up, she told him she would see him later.

At 10 p.m., we got a call that Mom had been intubated. We couldn’t believe it since she was doing so well.

The nurse called and told Cynthia that before she was intubated, Mom left us a message. She said she loved us and she would fight. An hour later the hospital called to say that Mom did not have long, that her oxygen was so low that she would go into cardiac arrest. We were told we could see her so we rushed to the hospital.

We went in and said goodbye to our beautiful ama. The doctor said her oxygen was so low that there was brain damage. She told us our mother was suffering because she couldn’t breathe. Together we made a difficult decision. We decided on comfort care.

Our mom passed early in the morning on Feb. 8 as Anna and Cynthia held her hands. We were devastated.

Then about two hours later, we got the call for Dad.

Again, we rushed to the hospital. We got there at 4:30 a.m. He had passed at 4:13 a.m.

When we saw Dad, we noticed a smile upon his face. The nurse stopped us outside his room and said Dad began to crash around 12:30 a.m. She said she read Mom’s chart and noticed the time of her passing — 12:34 a.m. She found it weird. We didn’t.

Mom couldn’t let Dad go alone, and she knew she wasn’t leaving us alone. We have each other.

We will miss you forever, Mom and Dad. Until we meet again.