Thursday, May 16, 2024
I don’t think I could’ve made it through the pandemic without J.J.
I first became acquainted with her at the Hope McDonald’s where I had returned after a bit of a hiatus. I was the Guest Experience Leader and the dining room was my fiefdom. J.J. primarily worked the till, yet filled in for me when I needed to distance myself from the madness…and that was pre-pandemic.
Like many other businesses, we had to shut down and could only accommodate patrons via the drive thru. When the governmental powers that be deemed it safe, walk-in traffic resumed, yet what a nightmare; everyone required a mask; everyone required distance; half the tables became unusable due to distancing. How the hell was I going to navigate such a landscape which I referred to as pandemicscape? Well…the godsend aspect descended in the form of initials…J.J.
As we both weaved our way through the muck and mire of all things COVID, J.J. and I morphed into a dynamite blend of sychronization. I recall recommending she mirror her shifts to mine which she somehow managed to pull off, thus one hell of an indelible team was born. We eventually had that dining room nailed and frankly, it came damn close to Steve Lawrence and Eydie Gormé working the tables at a Vegas nightclub. Some of the regular patrons began referring to us as the COVID couple. There was no doubt that life was closing in on us both. J.J. was wrestling with relationship woes and I was royally fed up with the public ripping flesh off me with its petty and pathetic grievances. It came as no shock to anyone that we both said Hasta la vista baby to the not so golden arches; she for the first time and me for the second. Eventually, I fled Hope and relocated to northern BC to the small town of Vanderhoof. I retained contact info for J.J. and I couldn’t have gifted myself any better.
I would continue to have chin wags with her in my new landscape, replete with a panoramic view of the Nechako River and an abundance of serenity in which one could’ve drowned. Nevertheless, the pastoral beauty of my new surroundings could not quash an inescapable fact…J.J. was ill. We gabbed on the phone, yet the calls would begin to diminish and be replaced with painfully short texts; an indication that both strength and incentive were waning.
Text message, March 18, 2024 from J.J.: Fell at house…have a broken hip…walking around house but extremely painful…not up for chat…will talk when I’m in a good place.
Text message, March 28, 2024 from J.J.: Just beginning to stand…my phone is all messed up…making trip to Lloyd to hopefully get it replaced…hope life is good with you.
“My God,” I recall saying to myself. “Comparatively, I’m in paradise.”
Text message, April 25, 2024 to J.J.: Closing in on a month since your last text. Are you still with us?
It was the most agonizing text I’ve ever sent to anyone. What kind of response was I expecting, if at all?
Text message, May 9, 2024 from Kelly: I’m sorry to tell you that J.J. passed on April 30th. I was with her holding her hand so she wasn’t alone.
Sitting on a deck chair, my gaze drifting across the Nechako River, a tumbler of whiskey in my grasp, I behold the sky and its tuft of clouds. I raise the glass and praise: “Okey doke darlin’, you were feisty and hell bent on beating the odds, much to be admired, yet we mere mortals are often no match for the Gods. Hopefully, you are now among them. Don’t hold them in resentment. Perhaps they have done you an incredible favour”.
I am indebted to Kelly for scrolling through the text messages on J.J.’s phone to discover my last message. If not for this initiative, I never would have achieved closure. Bless you!!
Janie Jensen departed the world April 30th, 2024. I was informed on May 9, 2024. Nine days later and, my God, how life can be short!!
