There are still so many days I reach for the phone wishing I could talk to you and hear your voice again. I no longer have that direct connection to you and it makes me so jealous of those who can just hit “speed dial #1” and their brother is instantly on the other end of the line. I admittedly took that for granted while you were here.
I know there are many people out there who think it is slightly less-than-sensible to believe that there is something out “there” after we die. Regardless, I believe there is and have always believed that there is. I don’t believe in God, but I do believe that something happens to our energy and our spirit after we die. I believed it long before you were gone but am even more protective of that belief now because it is the only thing that allows me to also believe that there is a chance you can still communicate with me from time to time and that I will, indeed, see you again someday. Insensible or not… it gives me hope.
I’ve just had to adapt to this new and distant way of communicating with you and I’ve learned to watch for the signs. While others might get a card in the mail from their brother, I might spot a 2-door Red Saturn with a guy in a purple baseball hat at the stoplight next to me and be reminded of you. Someone might get a phone call from their brother to say, “Hey, how’s it going?” For me, it is you leaving me a 1975 penny in a place where there was not a penny just moments earlier. Others have the joy of sitting and looking at a photo album with their brother and reminiscing about happier times… but I have the experience of a photo of you I never knew existed suddenly popping up or a favorite song or movie of ours will immediately come on the radio or TV as you cross my mind.
I know many people can easily dismiss these things as mere coincidences and feel I am naïve and foolish for believing there is any sort of cosmic meaning to them and I can completely understand why. But for me, these little things are the only ways I have left to relate to you for the rest of my existence– they are all I have. I guess I think of it as I think about any religion, really; as long as it brings me some comfort and I’m not hurting anyone, what’s the harm in believing that you’re still out there somewhere and that you reach out to me, letting me know you miss me and that you are now healing from your painful life on earth?
You are still in my contact list in my phone and I don’t plan on ever taking you out of that list. The number was long ago disconnected but I still dial it from time to time because for a mere second, after dialing but before the message from the operator comes on, I can hope that this time will be different and that this will all have been a bad dream and you’ll answer the phone.
Missing you more than ever,