Mary Posch decorated for Christmas. She knew that if her husband came home from the hospital, he would welcome the sight.
But he never got out. Instead, hours before he died in Kenmore Mercy Hospital, she was finally allowed at his bedside and told her partner of more than 30 years what she knew he needed to hear.
"Don," she said, "if you're ready to go, I will be fine."
On Thursday, Erie County surpassed the grim milestone of 1,000 such deaths due to Covid-19. That's how the story of this virus often is told – in numbers.
But the human story is so much more painful. Since March, Erie County has lost parents, educators, artists, law enforcement officers, authors, veterans and health care workers.
The accounting from this past spring – which saw the highest death toll – until now is written in a web of personal stories and isolated grief.
"All that keeps going through my head is that he died alone," said East Aurora resident Robin Steck, whose husband, William, died of the virus in April at age 56. "He was a good man. He didn't deserve this."
While Western New York passed the grim milestone weeks ago, County Executive Mark C. Poloncarz was reflective Thursday as he discussed the 1,001 deaths in Erie County alone.
"It's just sad because those are lives," he said. "It's someone's mother. It's someone's sister or brother or grandparent. It's a son or a daughter. We've had people under 50 die. So when we talk about that 1,001 deaths, those are 1,001 individuals who on Jan. 1st or New Year's Eve this past year were, maybe, ringing in the new year, hoping that 2020 would be great, with wonderful plans ahead of what they were going to do with their family and loved ones. And they're not here with us anymore."
Buffalo News journalists have so far written or tracked the life stories of more than 100 Western New Yorkers who have died of the novel coronavirus over the last nine months.
April, the single worst month for county deaths to date, was marked by the passing of 286 residents, including an accomplished photographer, former steelworkers, a hospital X-ray technician and a former school superintendent.
In May, the second worst month, residents said goodbye to another 262 community members, including an inventor of an early Caller ID system, an engineer, a musician and author and a Nazi concentration camp survivor.
The second surge in Covid-19 deaths descended on the region in November and is expected to continue through the holiday season. So far, 146 county residents have been counted among the dead for last month. December's death totals will be even higher if current fatality trends continue.
Counted within this latest surge of deaths are an electrician, a high school teacher and a spiritualist minister.
Also counted is Mary Posch's husband, Donald, who had been baking Christmas cookies with her in early November when the two of them initially came down with cold-like symptoms. By mid-month, Donald Posch had stopped eating and was barely drinking.
When he told his wife that maybe his time with her was at an end, she replied he couldn't leave her yet because they still had cookies to bake. And since Donald Posch, an Army veteran, was also the baker of the family by skill and by profession, he knew his way around the kitchen far better than she did.
The two City of Tonawanda residents had met at the wedding of Mary Posch's sister. As a maid of honor, she sat across from groom's best man, Donald.
"He winked at me across the altar," she said.
But while they were dating, her husband-to-be told her he had diabetes and would be surprised if he lived past 70. He lived to be 82.
"I feel pretty blessed I had him that long," she said.
Taking the young
When Town of Tonawanda resident Lovenia "Lou Lou" Henderson began complaining of body aches and died of Covid-19 within days, she was only the sixth person to have died of the virus in Erie County. But the most shocking thing about her death was her age. She was just 44.
Henderson was unconscious by the time her family saw her at the hospital to say goodbye.
"I pray that she heard us," said her daughter, Shamiah Wilkes.
Nearly one out of every five people in Erie County who have died of Covid-19 was under the age of 70.
Eleven were younger than 40.
One of them was Danielle N. Frank-Sasiadek, a 39-year-old mother of two who suffered from a neuromuscular disorder.
One day in April, Frank-Sasiadek lost control of her body. Her speech became garbled and slurred.
"She kept saying, 'Help me, mom. I don’t know what’s wrong,'" her mother recalled.
She died in Sister's Hospital 10 days later.
And taking the old
When Donald Posch died at age 82, he had suffered at home with Covid-19 for more than a week before his wife finally ignored his protests and called an ambulance.
"He was so weak he couldn't get up," she said. "He kept saying, 'Mary, I don't know what to do.' "
While far more younger adults contract Covid-19 than seniors, the risk of death to seniors is much higher. As of early December, 81% of Erie County residents who died were age 70 or above. More than half were age 80 and above.
At least four county residents who died were 100 years old or older. That includes William Burch, a former engineer who worked on the Manhattan Project and the Apollo lunar module. He was 100.
Many more died in their 90s.
That includes women such as Arline Yaw, a hair stylist who grew up on a farm and studied in a one-room schoolhouse. She died at 99.
It also includes men such as Philip Beckman, a 95-year-old Harris Hill Nursing Facility resident, who was forced from the Krakow ghetto at the age of 18 and survived his time at the Nazi concentration camp in Poland made famous by the movie "Schinder's List."
He considered himself a survivor until the end.
"When he was at Harris Hill, he really thought he was going to get better and was coming home," said his daughter, Melissa Beckman.
'Terrified' of nursing homes
For some family members who have lost parents to Covid-19, nursing homes represent places of no return. From March through early May, more than half of all Erie County deaths involved nursing home residents.
That includes two roommates, Natalie Hanlon and Maggy Woodward, who kept each other company in Beechwood Continuing Care nursing home as they got sicker and sicker from the virus, while family members kept vigil outside. The two women each died, barely a week apart.
And it includes the Rev. Barbara Jane Herling, a mother of five and spiritualist minister who founded the Northern Lights Christian Center for Metaphysical Development in West Seneca. Herling suffered from lung cancer and emphysema. She worried what would happen if she was transferred to a nursing home.
"She wasn’t just scared about it, she was terrified,” said daughter Nancy Kidder.
But after a hospital stay, she was transferred to a Cheektowaga nursing home for physical therapy. She was found to be positive for the virus shortly after being re-admitted to the hospital, even though she had tested negative two days earlier.
She died at 82.
But when it comes to nursing homes, it is not just residents who have died. Joan Neudecker, a nurse at McAuley Residence in Kenmore, had lamented the lack of access to adequate protective equipment in the spring. She became infected with the virus in April and died in May.
While the percentage of nursing home deaths fell over the summer, they appear to have risen once again with the fall surge. As of the first week of December, 58% of all county deaths associated with Covid-19 since November have involved residents who lived in congregate settings such as nursing homes and assisted living facilities, according to the Health Department.
From a bitter end to a better end
The worst thing about Covid-19 may be how it steals hope.
Many family members who were interviewed by The Buffalo News recounted how they initially thought there was a good chance their loved ones would recover, since so many others do.
They never thought the last time they would see a parent or child in person was when they were being loaded in an ambulance, admitted to a nursing home or brought into an emergency room. They never thought their final goodbyes would be through a phone screen, if there was any goodbye at all.
Shortly before former Eden schools Superintendent Donald D. Fregelette passed from Covid-19 at Mercy Hospital at age 88, it was a nurse who held his hand and listened as he told her he was ready “to go give my wife a hug now.” AnnaMarie Fregelette had died in 2015.
“The nurses and staff there went above and beyond anything we could have hoped or imagined,” said his son, David Fregelette.
These days, the recovery rate has improved. Those who fall seriously ill are much more likely to survive than they were in the spring because of advances in treatment. But with so many more people testing positive for Covid-19 now than in the spring, the number of deaths is inevitably rising.
Since the early months of the health crisis, many hospitals have loosened their restrictions, allowing family members to join their loved one's bedside when the end is near.
Mary Posch is grateful that she could assure her husband that she would be fine without him. His eyelids fluttered when she spoke.
"I think he was trying so hard to open his eyes to see me, but he couldn't," she said.
Donald Posch died three days before Thanksgiving. Now, his wife is looking ahead to next year when, like countless others, she plans to finally honor her husband's life with family and lay his remains to rest.
"We'll have a celebration in the summer, and it should be nice," she said. "It'll be a military service at Mount Olivet. He'd love that."
Nearly 20 News reporters have written stories about Western New Yorkers who have died from Covid-19, all of which contributed to this story. Details were included from stories written by Maki Becker, Phil Fairbanks, Dan Herbeck, Sean Kirst, Mike McAndrew, Lou Michel, Harold McNeil, Anne Neville, Mark Sommer, Matt Spina and Jay Tokasz.
Please contact The Buffalo News at citydesk@buffnews.com if you know of someone whose story we should tell.