"Ride or Die"❤️‍🔥 Episode 16: Jazmine & JR Cruz are building an empire together with Just Cruz’n Productions—and sharing every wild moment along the way🎙️ 🔗 @ray_ray_xxx @RebelRhyderXXX @ItsTaylorGunner @JR_Cruz2020 @JazmineCruzOff1

Yolanda was my ride or die. And I was hers. But we were also that person for dozens of other people. Family we were born into. Family we chose. People who needed someone to show up—and keep showing up. For decades, we did. From my mother to the next-door neighbor in San Clemente whom we adopted as family, we were there until the very end. Through illness, hospitalizations, fear, and those late-night calls nobody ever wants to receive. Now I’m beginning to understand another part of the extreme anxiety I’ve felt since losing my dear, sweet Yolanda. I lost the woman who made me a better person. I also lost the person I trusted to fight for me when I couldn’t fight for myself. I’m trying to help my father, who underwent successful melanoma surgery and was reported to have no evidence of disease. He subsequently received Keytruda. What followed was a cascade of health problems, including colitis that required emergency surgery. Even his surgeon has said Keytruda may have been responsible. Now there is another very serious development, and we cannot even get doctors to return our calls. His emergency-room waits are measured in days. How is this acceptable? And then there’s my own health. Almost seven months ago, I injured my back lifting Yolanda while caring for her. My doctor’s appointment is in January 2027. Yolanda would have been on that phone, calling again, asking questions, insisting someone see me sooner. She would have heard the pain in my voice even when I tried to hide it. I know what it takes to be someone’s ride or die in a hospital. You learn their medications. You ask what changed and why. You notice when something is wrong. You speak up when they are too exhausted, frightened, or medicated to speak for themselves. You insist that “do no harm” mean something in the care they actually receive. You sit beside that bed because the person in it is your whole world. Yolanda and I gave each other enormous comfort simply by knowing: If something happens to me, you will be there. You know me. You will speak for me. After decades of being there for so many people, I’m facing how frightening it feels to need that person and know she’s gone. I miss being her husband. I miss caring for her. I miss the life we shared. And I miss knowing that, whatever happened, my ride or die would be right beside me. I was hers. She was mine. You and me, sweetheart. Always. ❤️