It was the best thing I could have done. I don't think I could have faced the memories without sleep.
People came. My mother's college best friend came to talk to her. She drove from two hours away, and she spent the morning with her while I slept. Then in the afternoon, her high school girl friends came to be with her.
I finally left the house. I went to visit my dad, who was staying in a hotel in town, and took him and his wife food. I had been going through pictures of my brother, ones that I had stored away for some reason or another. And I found one of my brother and my father.
I took the picture to him, and he cried for a little while. We talked for a long time about the memories we had of Ryan. Just the little things that he would do that would make us laugh, or would frustrate us. He was no angel, but he was a great kid. He was a fantastic little brother, though I wanted to ring his neck most of the time.
We talked of other things as well. What I intend to do with my future. Where I plan on moving. What I can do with my degree. What my step-siblings are doing, how they are doing in school. What they plan on doing with their lives and educations.
But it was good to laugh, and share the good memories of my little brother.
When I came back home, I talked with my mom a little about faith. The one thing I know for sure, today, is that there is a purpose for all of us. I believe that we choose our path before we are born. Before we are even thought up. Our soul chooses the outcome of our life so it can grow. My brother was a young soul. He was new. He had a lot to learn about life, and people, and trust, and love. I'm unfortunately an old soul. My choice was to help others through this time. This is what I chose to do. And I know that I will meet my brother's soul again, in another lifetime. I will be reincarnated with a different path, while making a choice to take what I have learned from this lifetime and putting it to another. And my brother will be doing the same. He will take what he learned from this life, and put it in another life. Where he can help others.
I told my mother what I know in my heart is to be true. I talked to our friends, and I told them "Religion is for the living." It is. It is there for us to have something to lean on when we are unsure, and we can't talk with those that know all the answers. When we can't talk with the prophets like Jesus, Mohammed, Buddha. Or directly with our god of choice (God, Allah, Yahweh, Krishnah). Religion is for the living. The dead don't need it. They know the answers. My brother knows the answers now. He knows that it all comes down to 42 (Little joke for those who have read "The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy").
I did speak to my mom about what little I know of numerology. I think there is a big part of numbers that are guiding me as I write this. I believe numbers pop up for a certain reason. Three has always been a large part of my life. I wake up, almost daily, around 3:30 am (especially when I go to sleep before 3:00 am). I find things, or lose things, in three. Mice come into the house in three. And Ryan died after the third overdose.
In numerology, three is one of the best numbers in the world. According to one website, "[Three is] the purest love, and the epitome of goodness". I've also heard that 3 is the number for Christ. Everyone knows that the devil is 6. 666 is the mark of the Beast. But 3, half of six, is the purest number in the world. It is the first prime number. Jesus was 33 when he died, according to Christian beliefs. He was resurrected on the third day. And I believe that my brother, on his third overdose, was just saying that he wasn't going to be taken by the demons that would certainly come after this.
Maybe it's a radical belief, where I am from. But it is what I truly believe, and like I said, "Religion is for the living."
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