And the sun came out this morning. The world is still turning. Life goes on.
Date: June 27, 2013
Days Spent on Project: 130
Location: Apartment, Washington Heights, NYC
Person I would have sent it to: Rowan W.
Rowan lived around the hall from me that first year at Kenyon, and she was an art student.
I’ll be honest, I majored in Drama and have pursued a life in freelance costume design for the past 14 years or so, but that Rowan majored in Art kinda blew my mind. Granted, she was- and still is- extremely talented. She’s good at what she does.
She’s also extremely funny and down to earth and welcoming and nice.
Over the first year, she also started a hand-stitched quilting project. I wasn’t a quilter then at all; seeing her sit down with a box of fabric squares and piece them together by hand amazed me.
As the first year continued, I really did feel that she was a close friend. As our time at Kenyon continued, and again I submerged myself in most things theatre and I didn’t have the easy hall-mate connection, I allowed that good connection to wane a bit. And I regret that.
Because we’ve reconnected (via social media), and I really have to say that Rowan is an amazing person and continues to make good art and now has a really fun family life. She has two kids; I believe she would be an awesome mom.
She and I “like” each other’s quilting projects on Instagram frequently, if that means anything.
I wish she and I lived closer… because Mississippi is a bit of a stretch for me.
Thank you, Rowan!
Music I listened to while sewing: Sleep No More. I really just can’t think of any other music to listen to early in the morning at this point. I need suggestions, at the very least, of what’s good these days.
Thoughts/Feelings behind the block: I learned last night, through Facebook, that my friend Theresa P. (Crane 73) passed away earlier this week.
She was still living in Indianapolis. The friend I heard the news from, Tricia (Crane 95), now lives in California and didn’t know much of anything. Other than it was sudden.
I don’t really know what to say or think right now.
She was young. She was my age. I’m using the past tense when referring to her now.
I want to acknowledge that I really wouldn’t be here without the confidence she gave me in high school or the trips to see community theater in downtown Indianapolis or the hours spent in The Abbey coffee shop on Massachusetts Avenue in Indianapolis or the encouragement to smile back at a guy who was flirting with me while we were at the movies one weekend or the support during Godspell or the fun we had in A Midsummer Night’s Dream.
People liked her. She liked people. She smiled easily. She gave hugs. She was brilliant and poetic and spoke her mind and lived.
On her Facebook wall (is that now the 21st Century idea of a tombstone?), many people have remarked not to take tomorrow for granted. Live life fully like she did. It’s just a reminder.
You know what? We shouldn’t take tomorrow for granted. We should live life as fully as we can, as hard as that can be at times. But, I don’t think it’s because we should fear death or that we might not wake up in the morning or that something tragic might happen on the way to work. I don’t think we should fear the lost time or the lost opportunity or the days ahead of us.
I think we should live today fully because we owe it to ourselves to show the world what each of us is capable of, to remind the world that we are each unique gifts TO the world, to state that the world is lucky to have us here. We owe it to the people around us to show them we are here.
Live fully so people can be happy they knew you. So people can celebrate that the world was given the opportunity to be a bit more full because YOU were there… even if it was for 34 years… or maybe 8 years… or maybe 90 years.
I think Theresa lived fully for 34 years. And we all were lucky to have seen and been given that gift.
RIP, friend. Thank you.