One month after three of Janice Richardson’s closest relatives died of COVID-19 last year, she planted a garden behind her Waldorf, Maryland, home in honor of one of them, her older sister, Leslie Leake.

Richardson, 59, named the garden Little Peaches, resurrecting her beloved sister’s childhood nickname. She and her sister grew up in North Carolina, where they always had gardens and were used to eating fresh fruits and vegetables. Leake even maintained a backyard garden behind her Congress Heights home. 

“When she passed away, I thought, ‘What can I do to help me be reminded of her?’ and I thought, ‘The garden, because that’s where we connected,’” Richardson said. “We always talked about our garden.”

Since then, the vibrant garden has countered all of the death Richardson has witnessed in the last year, eased her mind, and granted her peace.

COVID-19 also took Richardson’s 45-year-old niece, Nicky Leake of Waldorf, on April 11, 2020. By the end of that month, the disease would claim Nicky’s brother, John Leake Jr., 40, and their mother, Richardson’s older sister, Leslie, 74. John and Leslie lived together in Congress Heights. They were two of the 1,141 people who died in D.C. from COVID-19, city data shows. But the numbers don’t show the emotional toll people took on after their loved ones died. 

The pandemic engulfed and upended Richardson’s world in such a short period of time, leaving tremendous loss and pain in its wake.

“We’re dealing with trying to get Nicky buried and then her brother dies the very next day … and then my sister died on a Thursday,” Richardson recalled.

Richardson’s story is a case study in coping with unspeakable grief while surviving a one-in-a-lifetime pandemic. In the course of DCist’s reporting, Richardson contracted COVID-19 and was hospitalized for several weeks. She says the experience has given her greater appreciation for her loved ones: It brought her family closer together across several states and prompted Richardson to start a prayer line so her family could support each other, particularly around the holidays. 

She’s learned to cherish life more and to lean into her grief. 

“People grieve differently,” Richardson said. “There’s no short term, there’s no long term, it’s individualized. That’s something that I learned, was about the grief cycle.” 

For close to a year, Richardson poured everything she had into her garden, which she started almost exactly a year ago.

Little Peaches provided.

Richardson grew a number of items, including broccoli, celery, cabbage, kale, okra, corn, squash, collards, watermelon, and tomatoes. She grew so many items that she ran out of space and gave some of her fruits and vegetables to neighbors.

“That garden brought me life, because when I first started, I was out there for 12 hours straight putting everything together,” Richardson said. “But it gave me an opportunity to go and visit and see how things were growing and progressing.”

Richardson has always been resilient, even when she was a little girl, says her older sister Queen Streater. Richardson, a natural giver, was always central to planning family trips, reunions, and other activities, Streater says. She’s always loved doing projects and helping people. 

Richardson, also known for being unflappable, was even at peace when she tested positive for COVID-19 on Feb. 6, the day after her birthday. She quarantined at home with mild symptoms, but days later, she couldn’t walk to the bathroom without losing her breath. Within the next couple of days, she felt weaker as her health deteriorated. Over the phone, her friends told her she needed to go to the hospital. 

By Feb. 12 she could hardly breathe and her body was exhausted. Her grandson called 911 and an ambulance rushed her to the emergency room at the University of Maryland Charles Regional Medical Center in La Plata, Maryland.  

It was there that doctors diagnosed Richardson with COVID-19-related pneumonia after performing a chest X-ray, she says.

“It’s only been a year since the deaths of my sister and her two kids and now I have the same thing that took them out,” Richardson told DCist from the hospital via text message.  

Richardson spent almost three weeks in the center’s intensive care unit, where doctors gave her steroids, blood thinners, and insulin shots. Doctors also put her on a high level of oxygen and recommended a tracheotomy to get more oxygen to her, she said. Richardson refused the surgery, even though doctors warned she could die without it.

“I said, ‘I have faith in God’ [and] ‘I don’t want to be intubated and I’m not going to be,’” Richardson recalled. “And I just prayed and I prayed and I said, ‘Lord, I trust you. I’m going to trust you to bring me through this.”

Family and friends texted her messages of support and Facetimed her every single day. Twice a day, she recited Psalm 91, verse one of the Bible. “He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty,” it reads. Her prayer circle snapped into action. When other patients were suffering and dying nearby, she played Michael W. Smith’s “Breathe” over and over in her head.

“We stayed strong as a family and we kept the faith and we knew that God has a reason for everything that takes place,” Streater said. “And we believed and trusted that he would watch over the family members that were left behind.” 

“I never got to the point of being afraid, and I’m telling you the honest truth,” Richardson says, though her recovery hasn’t been easy. “I had to condition my mind that I was going to come out of that OK and that’s where I stayed mentally.”

Personal tragedy soon struck the family again. Richardson’s older brother, Leroy Richardson Jr., 80, died April 15 of dementia. It was just about a year after Richardson’s nephew, John Leake, died of COVID-19.

“It’s so unbelievable how all of these things are happening and the dates that they fall on,” she said. “It’s amazing how all of these things are so synchronized.”

During the same period, two of Richardson’s childhood friends died — one of cancer and another one of COVID-19. Following those three deaths, Richardson says she’s had moments feeling sad and depressed from the shock of all of the loss. When that happens, she leans on her relatives and a therapist. 

“It’s definitely had an impact on my life, mentally and physically, but I always try to stay positive throughout it all,” Richardson said. 

Initially reluctant to take the vaccine, Richardson says she’s in a much stronger place mentally and physically and decided to take her first dose on June 25. She continues to lean on family, friends, God, and spiritual leadership from Ark Ministries Church of God and Mount Ennon Baptist Church for support. She occasionally delivers the benediction after the ministries’ prayer meetings and Bible study sessions, and hopes to start her own prayer line for others.

Ambulances have rushed Richardson to the hospital twice since her release due to her high blood pressure. Now, she’s on medication to control that. She has spent two months in physical therapy, was on oxygen at home, and got around in a walker. This prevented her from tending to her beloved garden.

On May 8, she stopped using the walker and slowly stopped relying on the oxygen. Richardson does light exercises every day for 15 minutes because, “I’m going to get back to my garden,” she said. “Oh yes, I’m ready.”

Around mid-May, almost exactly a year since she started her garden, Richardson finally returned to Little Peaches to do some extensive weeding. Now, she’s waiting for some plants to be delivered. While she originally started the garden to help heal her grief, she’s now turning to it as part of her recovery.

“I’m still on the oxygen, but I am pacing myself,” she said via text message. “I am doing so much better.”

In late June, she reported she was off the oxygen for good –– and tending to her garden once more.