Forever Young

By now, you’ve noticed, I’m a Jay-Z fan. If you have not noticed, I have no words for you.

Everyone knows I’m a Jay-Z fan. Not everybody knows I have a half sister.
Well, not really a half sister….. She’s my dad’s ex-girlfriend’s daughter. I consider her my “real” sister even though our link (my father) was never really around me. She lived in California our whole lives, so I only saw her during the summers after my mom and I moved to Memphis.

As a kid, my California family was either too cool to hang with me, or too into prunes and Ensure to tolerate my childish babble. Zoelina, that’s her name, by the way, was the only somebody I had to kick it with in those days of blown bubbles and failed fishing excursions (another blog ALTOGETHER). Oh! Zoe LOVED olives. I used to make sure I got extra on my salad just so I could give them to her, even though I thought it was super weird to love olives. She was somewhat mentally behind other kids her age, so it didn’t seem like she was a year older than me. I didn’t even notice her handicap until I was about 16. Zoe wasn’t slow, just childlike, and stayed that way as an adult. Naïve to a fault. It made no difference to me though. I thought she was a genius for coming up with the idea of stashing our gross, unwanted dinner (courtesy of my dad) in our napkins and pretending we ate it.

Eventually, I became one of those teenagers, and fell victim to insatiable boredom. Oakland didn’t have anything for me; I was either too old or too young for everything out there. Therefore, the summer after I turned 15, I decided to stay in Memphis instead of going to Oakland. That was the beginning of the end of my yearly trips to California.
Zoe and I still talked even though I had stopped visiting. She would call me every now and then. The phone would ring, and I knew that besides my grandma, the only somebody calling me with a 510 area code was her. I’d answer to a “Hay sister!” and we’d catch up. Calls devolved into texts, and she always asked when I was coming back. I never told her, but I didn’t intend on coming back any time soon.

I turned 20, and discarded the title of teenager. I also got word that my grandma had bladder cancer, and that I should come see her as soon as possible. They gave her six months, but it took three spring breaks after her diagnosis before I had to tell her goodbye. Seeing my tough, lively grandma turn into a victim of cancer hurt me. Deeply. I had lost people before, but not anyone as close as my grandma. Plus, she was my last grandparent. Seeing my grandma weakened was a major blow, but was only a warm up for God’s next play.

Spring of 2008 rolled around, I was about to turn 21, and Zoe had just had a baby! Everyone else wasn’t as happy as I was (envision Brenda’s Got a Baby.) She named him Jayshon. She’d only been pregnant on my last trip the year before, so THIS time I got to meet my nephew. I walked around the corner to her house, and when I got there, he was asleep. I talked with my sister like we hadn’t missed a day together. She showed me videos from parties at her friends’ houses, pictures from Jay’s birth, etc., etc . I couldn’t wait to see him, so I snuck into his room, and to my surprise he rolled right over with wide open eyes. Green eyes. The sun shined on his dusty blond hair.

This was my face. ------> o_O Your face would look like that too if your (mostly) Black sister had a baby with blond hair and grey eyes.

I went to pick him up, and he let me. I brought him back into the living room, and bounced him on my lap. He was about six months old. I thought he was the most adorable baby I’d ever seen. I still had to ask Zoe where he got those blue/grey/green eyes and blonde hair from.

“Girl, I don’t know. Genetics I guess.” She shrugged. I stared at him and he looked at me very knowingly, despite the fact that he was sucking on a pacifier. I took several pictures of him as he nonchalantly looked out the window while his mom and I talked.

I couldn’t stop gushing over him. “Zoe, he is going to be a HEARTbreakER.”
Fast forward to Summer 2009. I took my last trip to California to bury my grandmother. I cried like I had never cried before. My dad, being the only one tall enough to, held me up. He’d never been there when I cried before, but I was glad to have him then. I felt like he was the only one who understood my profound sadness. Before I left, I got to see Zoelina, but not my nephew- he was at his dad’s house. Zoe seemed to be so much more mature. She didn’t want to go out with me because she knew she had to save money. I treated us both to manis/pedis ($22 for both services in Oakland. I was amazed at such a bargain.) We ran our mouths the entire time, and although I had been worried about her ability to take care of herself and a baby, I felt relief after seeing how well she was handling things.

Skipping ahead a few months brings us back to Jay-Z. He went on tour that fall. Tickets went on sale at 3:00 PM one day in September; I checked out of Ticketmaster at 3:03 PM. At 22, this would only be my second concert. I was going with two friends (that’s Sam and Princess below).
I couldn’t have been more excited. The concert was scheduled for Friday, November 13th.


I’ve never been superstitious, but I do remember noticing that and raising an eyebrow. That funny feeling was more intuitive than I knew.

After a five. Hour. Trip. To. Nashville. From Memphis, we finally got to Vanderbilt for the concert. Thanks to some fire on I40-East, we had missed the first 30 minutes or so. Hov said he wasn't ordinary, and to my surprise, he wasn’t! He actually started on time! Shocker. As we walked in, “Already Home” was playing. I dashed away from my two compadres, as this was my SONG and I was NOT about to miss his performance of it. I ran as fast as my little (they were only 4 inches) stilettos would carry me.

Dirt off Your Shoulder. Big Pimpin. A bunch of other classics I can’t recall. Plus the Blueprint 3. The concert was in full swing, and I was in a sublime state of ecstasy. I knew every lyric, and had no problem shouting them. Between an un-activated iPhone, my actual phone, and digital camera, I got every second of video and still shot I could.

The concert was almost over, so the speed of the music slowed down. If my memory serves me correctly, Young Forever was the last song he performed. If you’re not familiar with the lyrics, here they are. (As I hear them, anyway. Imagine an angelic British voice singing these words.):

Let’s dance in style, let’s dance for a while
Heaven can wait, we’re only watching the skies
Hoping for the best, but expecting the worst,
Are you gonna drop the bomb or not?

Let us die young or let us live forever,
We don’t have the power, but we never say never
Sitting in the sand pit, life is a sure trip
The music’s for the sadman

Forever young, I want to be, forever young
Do you really want to live forever…forever…and ever?

I had my iPhone lighter app, swinging side to side. I was INTO this. My REAL phone was about to die, so I switched to using my camera to record the performance. As Mr. Hudson’s ethereal voice flowed in and out of my ears, I felt my phone vibrate. It was a text, and I only checked it because I knew my phone was about to clock out. I opened the text, and saw it was from my dad.

“Im really [messed] up now. Zoe was killed tonight.”

I looked at the phone. I saw the words on the screen-that is, I read the message. However, I wasn’t processing anything. I just stared at the screen. The brightness of the display took a fatal toll on the battery, and the text went away as the phone faded to black and died. Mr. Hudson’s voice seemed to fade, too. I heard nothing. I saw nothing. I felt nothing. No sadness. No confusion.

After what felt like an eon, those senses finally returned. Jay was on the last verse of the song, so I apparently hadn’t zoned out very long. I continued to film the performance, sang along, and even waved my lighter iPhone app. I chose not to believe the text. For the rest of the night, I ignored that text, and I ignored what it meant.

We went home the next day. I texted my dad back and asked if he were okay. I didn’t call him until I got back to Memphis, in my own car. Out of nowhere, tears welled in my eyes, and I lost it. Again, my dad was there when I cried. Again, he was the only one who could feel my sadness, who was hurting just like I was. I didn’t want him to be. I had always had so much anger for not having been anywhere in sight when I cried before. But for just then, I put my anger aside and let his voice comfort me.

Some guy that Zoe was dating had taken Jayshon and lured her to the San Francisco Marina. He killed her there, and they found her body some time after. He had just been released from prison. After my dad told me this, all I could think about was Jayshon. He didn’t have a mom anymore; he’d never remember Zoe. I wondered who would take care of him, what it would be like for him. I remembered calling him a heartbreaker the one time I met him, and wondered what he would grow up to be now, without her.

I didn’t have to wonder very long. The police found Jay’s little body floating in the San Francisco Bay the next day.

My heartbreaker prediction came true. I didn’t think it would be my heart he’d break.

Even though some psychopath stole my sister and my nephew, I never asked God why. Life in Oakland is rough enough for a boy, and even harder without a mother. I won’t say I was relieved that God took them together. However, I did feel a certain serenity to know they were with Him, and had each other. Their loss taught me a very important lesson: it is nothing less than selfish to miss someone when they die. This world is a void compared to Heaven. To want someone back is to want to pull them from paradise. We shouldn’t question why things happen, or linger over the hurt they leave us with. So, to everyone who’s lost someone, you should cry, be hurt, angry, or whatever you need to be or do. But don’t let the tears get in the way of receiving the peace that passes understanding. When you’re done grieving, you may not still understand, but you will accept it, and eventually, be okay with it. I have, and I do.