Thursday, September 15, 2005

missing

lunch

I'm a bit sad today.

One of my nearest & dearest friends Jessie Elizabeth Rogers left town this morning.
She came and picked me up at 7am to go get her U-Haul trailer (in the very same art car we started our adventure in 5 years ago)!

I feel like a chapter in my life has ended... another one inevitabily beginning!

You see, jessie and i drove out here to SF together and now she's moved on to Albuquerque (just for 12 months, i hope to return to the bay area!).

Jesssie and i were placed as roomates (random or destiny I know not) our first year in college in Minnesota. We took the temperature every day in the winter and charted it on a calendar on our floor. Put a huge Frida Kahlo poster on our ceiling and asked her advice. We raised our small beds up on cinder blocks to loft them a bit. Ahhh, so long ago, but still we are so little ten years, 11? later.

I remember the excitement of getting that letter stating my roomate's name and lo and behold it was the very same name as my sister- Jesse Elizabeth. Crazy, no? On the phone Jessie said she had a "teva tan", I said, "You sound like a girl with a teva tan". Remember those spongey sporty sandals? hee.

There has always been Mati & Jesse or Jessie.

I'm a lucky girl, it's true, to have such companionship and sisterly love.

Just soaking up my missing right now, staying with it, moving through it and appreciating Ms. Jessie so.

5 comments:

j. vorwaller said...

oh mati, im so sorry, i hate goodbyes.

Swirly said...

I appreciate your sadness, but from the other perspective - that of the one that has moved. I am still within driving distance of many close friends, but the transition has been challenging indeed. You will find new ways to connect over the miles. :)

Anonymous said...

:(
sad when people go...

Anonymous said...

Mati: I LOVE THAT DRAWING. LOVE IT!
It reminds me of one of my favorite artist's work: Francesco Clemente.

Beautiful!

-penelope

Cin said...

love your illo Mati! and sorry about your friend leaving. . .