I
met Jessie through one of my old blogs. It’s defunct now, but my friendship
with Jessie is anything but. If memory serves me correctly, this was back in
2008 or 2009. We would comment on each other’s writing and daily lives. We
would also send each other fun packages—or I like to think I sent her fun
stuff. I did. I did. Jessie would send me everything from homemade beef jerky
to knitted thongs for the many bridal showers I was attending at the time. I
sent her spicy peanuts and retro notebooks. We clicked.
We
ended up becoming “friends” on Facebook and our friendship became closer. We
interacted with each other everyday and still read each other’s blogs. I should
say, though, that in most ways we are completely different. If you were to look
at a timeline of my life compared to Jessie’s life, there would be few
similarities. During this time, Jessie also became close to my sister. My sis
and I can be a bit of a matched pair, so this wasn’t very unusual.
After
many years of friendship, we had the opportunity to meet Jessie and her family
in person. In April of 2013, my mom, sis, and I found ourselves near Yucaipa,
California. We were gonna get to visit Jessie! We went to Jessie’s house, and
it was just like showing up to any of our friend’s houses. We knew better than
to hug her (Jessie doesn’t do hugs), but she did greet us with a giant smile
and many, many air flappy hugs. She got us all piled in our rental car, and she
gave us a tour of Yucaipa, which ended with us picking up some fantastic,
authentic Mexican food. We had to head back to the hotel because we were flying
out and heading back to South Carolina. Jessie packed us each our own bags. My
mom got a handmade scarf and pieces of a bottle tree that she wanted to try and
root back home. My sis and I got a handmade scarf, some blood oranges from a
tree right near Jessie’s house, and some sage to take home and dry. The sage was neatly wrapped up in some yarn
for travel. My carry on bag smelled heavenly for months.
Back
at home, I found myself realizing how much I relied on Jessie and her
friendship. When I would feel not so confident in myself, I would call Jessie.
When I had a funny story to tell, I would call Jessie. You see where I’m going
with this? You do. When something good would happen to me, I would call her and
she would say, “This is good. Write it down. When you start to feel down about
this, then go back to your notes and read this. It will remind you that you are
good at this.”
I
got to go back and visit Jessie in February. It was a fast paced trip, but it
was good. Jessie, her family, and I were all crammed into her two-bedroom
apartment for a few days (there were five of us, three cats, and a dog). There
was room for me, though. Jessie always makes room for me. I’m really in awe of
my friend. She is very public about her struggles, so I know she wouldn’t mind
me sharing. Jessie grew up in a foster home, and it wasn’t a good situation.
She was a young mom and a young wife. I grew up in a household with both
parents and a sister, and I sometimes still wonder when the hell I might grow
up. The only evidence so far is a mortgage and a car payment. What I’m trying
to say is that I had all of this wonderful direction as a kid and young adult.
Jessie did not; however, she is making this life work for her. Her kids are
fantastic little human beings, who make the honor roll. She is holding down a
good job and going to college. She has a path, and she makes choices each day
to keep moving forward on that path.
I write
all of this for Jessie. I wanted to find a way to tell her that she helps me
March Fourth each day. There have been some pretty dark times for both of us,
and I’d like to think I help her March Fourth each day, too. I try.
