At the age of 24, my older sister Joy drowned and died on the shores of a river in Costa Rica. But she was revived. From that traumatic event, she had a brain injury for the rest of her life and had to be cared for by our family 24/7. Yet this was not the first nor the last bizarre accident that happened to Joy. There was a firecracker in Puerto Ordaz, Venezuela, a construction worker in Houston, Texas, and a truck driver in Huntsville, Alabama. Her life ended in such a baffling way that, if this was a fiction book, the reader would throw it across the room for how unbelievable it was. But this is not fiction, it is the true story of my very unlucky sister.But there was more to Joy than the tragedies of her life. Joy was my first best friend. She was an amazing singer, loved swans and the color blue, and became a Spanish Teacher. She was the first person I talked to about being queer. She was my confidant and my tormentor. This is the story of our childhood that was split between Jersey Village, a small suburb just outside of Houston, Texas, and different locations in Venezuela. We grew up very sheltered, in a conservative Southern Baptist household. While this is about Joy's life, it is also about the love and teasing we shared as siblings, including our two younger sisters, Jacqueline and Jessica. It is about our parents, who did the best they could. It is about the love and complicated feelings we all have. It is about the joy and sorrow of Joy.