Yesterday morning at approximately 3:30 am my close friend, JJ, died. Cancer was her killer. She beat it once, but it is a greedy fucker that typically returns with a ravenous appetite.

JJ or “J Dub” as I called her was my sister. She was a wife, Mother, daughter, Aunt, supervisor and friend to many. And everybody loved her. I don’t say that lightly. She had a light that drew you in; a joy that was contagious. Even when she was sad or angry, it was as if her bouyant spirit couldn’t be brought down. She had a radiant smile and when you were the cause, you were lit up from the inside.

So when someone like her leaves, there is a huge hollow. I actually don’t know what to do; I’m pretty sure that I’m still in shock.

I met JJ through my love, David; she was his best friend’s, Ahmed’s, wife. We were fast friends to our partners’ relief, I’m sure. Early in our friendship, she volunteered their beautiful home to host a surprise party for David. We decorated and concocted the cover story for her husband to get the birthday boy there. It was a beautiful event with a not-so-beautiful ending because David had too many drinks on an empty stomach. [But that’s a story for a different post.] We laughed, danced and toasted together that night. And listened to my ranting for weeks later.

We shared a Scandal obsession that led to many excited, rambling debriefs and a handful of wine-induced viewings. Wine and coffee were other shared obsessions, at least until she quit them in her battle against cancer. We had a love of PJ’s Coffee and J Pinot Gris, which we discovered in a random Largo spirits store on a liquor run for an impromptu cookout.

We surprised them with David and I flying into Jamaica for their 10th anniversary. What started as a group trip became a solo one until I booked a quick stay at our favorite Iberostar Rose Hall resort in Montego Bay, which we recommended to the couple. A time was had! Through the haze of smoke, we laughed, watched sunsets, ate delicious food and in JJ’s words, we “turned up, turned up, turned up!” That was her repeated line for the trip, lol. When I unpacked, I realized that I had a joint in my personal bag that I carried on the plane!

When her father died five years ago preceded by my sister, we were so sad, and the guys didn’t know what to do. We leaned on each other and shared many teary phone calls, girl dates, and silent moments.

Our children became fast friends as well. My son and her daughter are months apart and used to chase each other around before they became teenagers. Their son is older and therefore my son worshipped him on some level. And he always humored him with conversations and video games.

We packed a lot in, in a short nine years. I always thought we’d have more time. Covid stole time from us. She was in treatment during her first battle and I stayed away mostly, not wanting to bring her germs. And then, I up and move out of the country. We had so many plans for their visits here that never happened.

We made do with WhatsApp and Google Meet. We texted and sent each other posts and reels on IG. Then the cancer came back. I was so angry that I couldn’t just rush over to her. In September, Ahmed called David with the news and we cried in the yard under the palapa. David was already headed back late in the month and I scheduled a flight for once our son was on break from school in October.

Between an extended chemo schedule and doctor’s appointments, I only saw her twice during my 11-day stay. She was thin and in a wheelchair. Her head was brown and bald and there was a sadness in her eyes. But her beautiful smile and spirit was intact. And her hugs were still great.

But now there’s a JJ-sized hole.