She was a mother, a grandmother, a sister, a daughter, a niece, a granddaughter, a friend and an aunt. She loved her children and grandchildren fiercely, prepared to do whatever it took to be with them and protect them. She meant something to a lot of people and she was everything to some people….. everything but a pushover.

The youngest of four children, my aunt did not take kindly to anyone who defied her morals and beliefs. She was adored and I think she knew it. She had a particular way of doing things and only accepted a certain kind of behaviour from those around her. She was capable of doing absolutely everything herself and I vividly recall her adversity to accepting help from anyone. All these qualities are what made her special, but they are also what made the end so incredibly difficult.

My aunt loved dogs, especially Rottweilers. I lost count over how many dogs she had over the years a long time ago, but I am sure she never did. Scores of people across Jamaica have also purchased puppies from her and she would probably have been able to name them all if she had to. If you needed advice about raising dogs, my aunt gave it – solicited and unsolicited!

Aunty Jo was the young and fun aunt. Jokes in her country kitchen (a favourite of mine) were often had, and she could tell us some stories that would have us doubled over with laughter on her verandah. It was such a joy to visit her and to have the family together.

One of my earliest memories of my aunt was when my belief in the magic of Christmas wavered one year. We had spent the night at her house, waking Christmas morning to find our stockings at the foot of our beds. The minute I came out with some logical explanation as to why Santa Claus was not real, she nipped this in the bud by telling me she and her son, my older cousin by six months, had spotted Santa, his sleigh and the reindeer in the sky the night before. Just like that, the magic was back! She was convincing.

In life, we have choices, but we also face unpleasantries and traumatic experiences, which we do not choose. I think we have to accept the latter, but I also believe we should use the former wisely. When we lose someone whom we love, it is devastating. We must face that devastation, feel it and live it. We have no choice in the matter. However, we can choose how we want to continue in this world. We can choose to hold on to the family and friends whom we have. We can choose to accept their help and support. We can choose to have them around us. We can choose to let in their love and kindness, so that we won’t feel so alone. In death, we have no choice. In life, we do.