Jahmaica, One Love

Writing about my Friend Jahmaica is one of the hardest things I have had to do, in a life filled with challenges and hardships.

It's hard because the friend that was always there, that has been an integral part of my life for the last five years, is gone.

He spoke Jamaican patois, which I could easily understand, at least after the first few months.

When he and I were together, which was virtually all the time at work, and others were around, they would often say to me, “What did he say?”

He almost always wore camouflaged military style long sleeve shirt and pants, and a Rastafarian knit cap which contained his  long dreadlocks, which he called a crown.

He was born in trenchtown, Jamaica, the toughest part of Jamaica, the home of Bob Marley, who Jahmaica revered as a saint.

Jahmaica was a “Christian Rasta”.

A follower of “Jessus” Christ.

He didn't eat red meat or pork, just vegetables, chicken and fish.

He was full of life, he loved life, everyday, at some point, he would look up to the heavens and shout “What a beautiful day! Thank you Jah!”, even when it was snowing and the wind was blowing and we were close to freezing.

Jahmaica loved his mother and his brothers and his children, and women.

He always had a beautiful girlfriend, he loved deeply, even when it seemed apparent that the love wasn't reciprocated, at least, not in the way he offered love.

His love was unconditional, and, because of his openness, and trusting beliefs, there were times that he was taken advantage of by women who didn't have the same interests in a relationship that he did.

And although he was hurt, he moved on with optimism towards the next challenge.

Jahmaica landed in NYC when he was 20, he made his way across the country, through the south, where he experienced racism at its worst, spent a couple of years in Texas, and finally moved to Albuquerque, which is where we met.

We soon became fast friends.

At some point I built a computer for him, although initially he was reluctant to get into it,

“I will never have a computer!” he'd said.

Once he learned how to operate it, it became his most prized possession.

“I love my computer.” he would say.

“I thank you for it, I will never forget that you gave me my first computer.”

Sadly, it was his last computer, as well.

To be continued