Gone, but Not Forgotten~* for Jesse
Jesse Addam Lawrijan passed away a year ago today~ I wrote this, remembering all the crazy cool ways he made me smile. Activist entry~ suicide is never the way to go.
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“The angels have dandruff again. Why can't they just use Denorex?” Jesse's way of saying it is snowing. I was Jesse’s editor, friend and confidant. He was my protegee and life coach. I first met Jessie on the bus a year and a half ago when our passion for writing bonded us instantly.
The four things that sum up Jesse the best were his: marathon writing (especially poetry), sarcastic humor, office supply fetish, and most importantly his giving soul. He hoarded his journals as a dragon would treasure gold, glimmering words.
Everywhere I go I see a hint of Jesse. I can not walk anywhere without seeing Jesse’s favorite color, ode to cerulean. Jesse incorporated color into his prose.
Most people would tell you Jesse was a hard person to get to know, but if you were lucky as I was to get through the prickly façade you would see brilliance. Spelling Bee extraordinair, Jesse’s vocabulary rivaled that of most college professors.
Last term I was having a hard time in my art class, Jesse presented me with a key for a locker in A. Excited as a child with a key to the lost city, I opened the locker and found a brand new art portfolio case. Inside a note read- “Amy, Good luck in art class. I hope you can find good use for this- it’s tough now, but keep going! - Jesse.” Jesse, perceptive as always knew the perfect gift. Gifts that were randomly given and, for which he wanted nothing in return, except for people’s happiness.
We were each other’s muses. He inspired me to write again and somehow I provoked him to start drawing.
A diligent student, Jesse aspired to be a literature teacher. With his passion for knowledge I know he would have gone far. He has passed the gauntlet off to me now, as I go into art education, I hope to make him proud. Jesse may you find peace with singer, Eva Cassidy, and your mother. I know you are in good company . . . I just wish you were still in mine, brother of mine.
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The one thing the people didn't know from this Harper newscliping was that Jesse left me a note. He said i'd conquer CFS & everything would be fine. I'm still angry at him for leaving, but I love him all the more for believing in me. For all the sadness in the past couple years I will drink up the goodness & not ask questions, savoring happiness. I never realized just how foreign a thing it had become. ~*~*Happiness is an attitude*~*~
~~~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~~~
“The angels have dandruff again. Why can't they just use Denorex?” Jesse's way of saying it is snowing. I was Jesse’s editor, friend and confidant. He was my protegee and life coach. I first met Jessie on the bus a year and a half ago when our passion for writing bonded us instantly.
The four things that sum up Jesse the best were his: marathon writing (especially poetry), sarcastic humor, office supply fetish, and most importantly his giving soul. He hoarded his journals as a dragon would treasure gold, glimmering words.
Everywhere I go I see a hint of Jesse. I can not walk anywhere without seeing Jesse’s favorite color, ode to cerulean. Jesse incorporated color into his prose.
Most people would tell you Jesse was a hard person to get to know, but if you were lucky as I was to get through the prickly façade you would see brilliance. Spelling Bee extraordinair, Jesse’s vocabulary rivaled that of most college professors.
Last term I was having a hard time in my art class, Jesse presented me with a key for a locker in A. Excited as a child with a key to the lost city, I opened the locker and found a brand new art portfolio case. Inside a note read- “Amy, Good luck in art class. I hope you can find good use for this- it’s tough now, but keep going! - Jesse.” Jesse, perceptive as always knew the perfect gift. Gifts that were randomly given and, for which he wanted nothing in return, except for people’s happiness.
We were each other’s muses. He inspired me to write again and somehow I provoked him to start drawing.
A diligent student, Jesse aspired to be a literature teacher. With his passion for knowledge I know he would have gone far. He has passed the gauntlet off to me now, as I go into art education, I hope to make him proud. Jesse may you find peace with singer, Eva Cassidy, and your mother. I know you are in good company . . . I just wish you were still in mine, brother of mine.
~~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The one thing the people didn't know from this Harper newscliping was that Jesse left me a note. He said i'd conquer CFS & everything would be fine. I'm still angry at him for leaving, but I love him all the more for believing in me. For all the sadness in the past couple years I will drink up the goodness & not ask questions, savoring happiness. I never realized just how foreign a thing it had become. ~*~*Happiness is an attitude*~*~