Life after death...

There are certain moments in life that define who we are and dictate who we will become. These moments usually happen while we are making life plans and these moments bring our daily existence to a screeching halt. All in one second my life changed so profoundly that I could barely grasp it. On Sunday, December 15th I was flying home from L.A. I was on the last flight of two from Minneapolis to Chicago. There were about 15 people on the flight dressed in business suits waiting for the last passenger - me - to board the plane. My flight from LA got in late because of a delay so I had to sprint across the airport to a completely different terminal where I barely made my last flight. I was so pissed off because I couldn't get a hold of my brother, Alex, who was suppossed to be picking me up. I was trying to call him all day and both my parents said that they were having a hard time getting a hold of him as well. I got on the plane and noticed that the last 20 rows were empty but I still sat in my assigned seat. The only person I noticed upon entering the plane was this twentysomething, crazy-haired, five o'clock shadowed guy. The flight attendant came back and asked, "Do you want to move up to the front with the other passengers? I responded with, "No, I want to even out the weight." She laughed and then I laughed, but I think she knew I was enjoying the solitude. The flight was only 45 minutes long so I took my IPOD out of my bag, shut the light and stared out of the window at the bright lights. I wondered if the lights were visible from space. They seemed so remarkable only 7,000 feet above the earth. The flight went by quickly and before I knew it we had landed at Chicago O'Hare Airport. As I was exiting the plane, the crazy-haired guy whom I noticed before said hi to me. We started talking about the weather in L.A. and how devastating it is to come back to the freezing Chicago bliizzard. There were two things we had in common. The first one was that we both lived in London. He currently lives there and I lived there for 5 months this year. He is attending clown school. I found that hillarious and really interesting. He even had a red circle nose neclace that he wore around his neck. As we were walking to the baggage claim I discovered the second thing we had in common. He stuck out his hand in effort to shake mine and said "I'm Alex." I don't remember why but I felt like I'd known him my whole life. So I said "That's my brothers name! I never meet anyone named Alex. I'm Chelsea." He mentioned that he needed to find a pay phone to call his mother for a ride. I offered my cell phone because, well why not? As suspected, my bag didn't show up when I did so I put in a report with the nwa baggage agent who told me that I would be receiving my bag when it arrived in Chicago. Alex came in and gave me my phone back and I told him to have a nice holiday. He said the same to me. I finally got in touch with my dad who insisted on coming in to get me. I found that a little odd since he could simply pull up to the curb outside. But I didn't think twice. As he was walking in he looked as if he had been crying. When we got outside he said "mom and Joyce are in the car." Immediately I knew that something was wrong. It was 12:30 at night. He started to cry and I remember looking through the car wind-shield where I saw Joyce crying. That's when I knew. My brother was dead. Obviously it was more mortifying when actually happening. I don't remember doing anything other than screaming and crying. I couldn't believe it. I still can't believe it. When I asked them how, they told me honestly and as best as they could. My mother found him and he was already at the coroner's office. Since that moment my life has not made any sense. The places I go and have gone to regularly, the people I know, the songs on the radio and the feeling of freedom has been replaced with indescribable sorrow, anger, fear, depression, lack of understanding, disorientation, perplexion, and grief. My brother was 20 years old and he was killed by a drug overdose - something so preventable, so emasculating. I still think he's gonna walk in the door, even after being alone in a room with his with his beautiful face that appeared as if he were sleeping and his cold, muscular body completely relaxed. Even after watching his casket slowly lowered into the ground. Even after visiting his grave 3 times this week. Even after tears and hugs and sleepless nights. Even after the prayers and the condolence calls and the rememberance and the investigating - I still think he's coming back because I'm not ready to say goodbye. I'm not a religious person, but I have to feel like he's in heaven. There would be no where else for him. I can't believe that you die and that's it because he had such soul. It was not until the third day after his death that I remembered meeting a guy named Alex 15 minutes before I found out my brother died. Life happens mysteriously, without warning or reason. But I know that there is life after death. Even if life seems unbearable and confusing as it does now, I do know that it goes on. It's only been 9 days since that moment, and I am still alive but I am a different person completely because I can't be the same person without him. He was the other half of me. I don't feel whole anymore. I just feel tired and uncertain of life ahead. Life does not make sense as it did before. But there is life after death.