Of Esther Earl and knowing the dead

This blog is not going to have so much in the way of funny.

Just saying.

Anyway, as most of my Nerdfighter friends know, we recently lost someone very special. Esther Earl died of cancer on the 25th of August. She was sixteen years old. To those of you who did not know who this girl was, it's a little hard to explain. Reason being, I didn't really know who she was either. I heard about her in a Vlogbrother's video, then forgot about her, and then watched another video regarding her death a few months later. Not exactly a lasting relationship.

Which is why I was extremely confused when I realized that I was in this odd state of depression for two days following the news that Esther had died. I asked a few people if they had any input and they all came up with the same answer. "Jessie," they would say. "Your father died of cancer two years ago. You're still hurt and this is reminding you of that. Calm down."

Yes, I agree, I'm still hurting. Yes, there has not been a day in two very long years that I have not thought about my father. Yes, there have been moments when I hit rock bottom that I wish I had been the one laying in that hospital bed, just so I wouldn't have to deal with this cluster of feelings every damn day. But I can very clearly remember not thinking about my dad in relation to Esther when I found out she died. I remember thinking "here was this really interesting, brave girl that I will never meet because she died. That really sucks."

And then I proceeded to cry for a while.

I eventually figured that the only way to remedy this was to try to learn more about Esther through the people that knew her personally, or knew of her. She was brave, empathetic, insightful, in love with Harry Potter (the novels. Not the character), hilarious, giving, and loving beyond reason. And I wanted that to be enough for me, but there was still something missing to this cold comfort.

It was around this time that I then started to watch Esther's youtube channel, as she had pretty well documented the last year of her life, being unaware that it was the last year of her life. Everything I had heard was true. But this time, I got to hear it from her own mouth.

Esther was so much more than I can describe. Not because she was an angel, or some heavensent saint. But because she was a person. In all her love, and laughs, and tears, and flaws, there was that certain special something that makes a person who they are. No one can put a name to it, but it is evident in everyone we've ever known. And it makes me really sad that I only have my small window of Youtube and sites to try to see Esther for the person she was, and continues to be in the people she left behind.

The windows that we see each other through seem to get smaller and smaller after we die. We idealize every death to the point where we forget the person that died. I've done this several times in the last few years, starting with my dad, then Sydney, then my uncle, and now Esther. I only bring up Sydney because I got to know her in much the same way that I've gotten to know Esther. Hearing about her through the girls I went to greif group with was a loving, if not inaccurate, method of getting to know someone. I learned every good and kind thing there was to know about Syd. But like with Esther, I'll never be able to see her for the person she was. Because I never really knew her.

Its a strange feeling, meeting someone after they die.

That being said, I feel like this is something that everyone goes through at some point. Whether its a movie star you loved, or a musician that rocked your world, or just some neighbor kid you kinda knew growing up but not really.

I've had a story idea in my head ever since Esther died, about a college graduate trying to get to the funeral of a girl he used to baby-sit. Its more about the feeling of knowing the dead, and what it means to live than it is about anything else, really. It may end up being my NaNoWriMo project this year, and if so, it's being dedicated to Esther. Not the most kind gesture, given the general suckiness that comes along with the NaNoWriMo writing process. But it really was inspired by her. I may post some of what I already have here on the blog. But we'll see if it comes to that.

Anyway, this is really long. If you've made it this far, great job. You have more attention than I do. Look up Esther Earl on Youtube if you get the chance. Thanks guys.

"Saying you love someone is a good thing."
-Esther.

Currently

I've never had an actual "blog" before, so here's hoping it doesn't bite me in the ass.

I'm finding myself asking some questions right now. What is this thing supposed to be? I've been told it's everything from therapeutic, to an escape from sane thought, to the highest form of whining that doesn't involve the Supreme Court, to just a really popular time killer. Well, I'm a bored teenager with too much time on her hands, so I guess I could use all of it and a bag of chips. Honestly, creating this blog was just a snap decision I made about half an hour ago when I sat down and realized the whole stinkin' world had gotten together and said "hey guys, you know what would be fun? Lets all go this website and type and read what we typed and pray to God that other people will too! Yay!"
And as we all know, I love conforming to stuff.

So here I am, wasting time I could be using to do my homework, typing away at something I will most likely forget about. Sounds about right. I'm not going to talk much about school right now, save for that bit about homework time. Because unlike most of my peers, school passes me by. I'm a B average student (on a good year) and yes, sometimes I want to commit mass homocide against The Man, but otherwise I just don't pay attention to it. Here's this thing that I have to do everyday for one more year, and then I don't have to do it anymore. I think I can pull that off.

I like paragraphs. Even short ones.

I will, however, talk about college and being an adult and other such stuff. As that seems more important to my mind at the moment. In much the same way that, for most of my life, I thought driving was something adults were born doing, I thought college was something my friends were just going to do. That was their plan for after high school, and they were sticking to it. It wasn't something I even thought about until two days ago. I mean really. You basically live in this series of buildings for the first eighteen years of your life, and then you get the chance to leave, only to go live in another series of buildings but this time you pay for it. But now, I'm thinking that maybe this is something I want to do. If only just a little. Because now I have this plan, and projects, and theories on how to save up enough money to live somewhere that isn't here. And I think I'm okay with that.

So, here it is. My first real blog post. Now it's time to pray to the Gods of The BloggerHood that someone reads it.