In the past eight years, I’ve learned that there are two types of days that can be categorized. The first is the kind of day that you pretty much accept that things are the way they are because there’s no time to question or complain about anything but what’s right in front of you. Then there’s the second type which isn’t much different than the first except for the fact that you want nothing to do with what’s right in front of you obscuring and interrupting your soul searching questions to the universe wondering why things are the way they are.

Over the last few years, I’ve learned to spend more time in the former rather than the latter in order to keep moving forward. But today I’m taking the time to let the other noise around me to fade out of focus so I can center on the ‘why.’

I last physically saw my little brother with life in his eyes was February 2004. It was the final time we laughed together in the same room. But more importantly, it was the last time we shared the one thing we always wanted to share more of together; music. That cold night rainy night in February we saw Linkin Park. I remember when I surprised him with the tickets over Christmas. It blew him away. Little did I know that only a few short months later, he’d be gone and the musical tie of that band would leave a tangled emotional mess of despair that would eventually germinate into hope.


And for awhile, I wanted nothing to do with it; creating music or Linkin Park. We talked about working on our own music idea. Now that would never happen. And because Linkin Park was the last thing we shared, I didn’t want to not open that proverbial box. But eight years later, I can honestly say to myself that I’m much more open and receptive to the subtlest signs of something clearer. At ground zero when it was all too fresh, I couldn’t see anything, I was blind and jaded by my mistrust of the universe and its plan. Now being aware of my own emotional limits, I can have clarity when it comes to my pit of irreparable pain.

With a little bit of growth and perspective, I now notice the universe trying to communicate with me. There's been an odd shift that I've just recently picked up on and I can't help but think that it’s my little brother trying to connect with me in a way only a sweet lost soul can.


The signs started with a discussion about energy conservation and how we treat our world. The dialogue was primed by a drive up the freeway when “What I’ve Done” came on the music player. It set in motion the talk about improving our world, which is the subtext of the song, and the reopening of an old dormant connection. This song was also on the Transformers soundtrack. This started my obsession with wanting to see Transformers 3. Transformers 3 included my favorite song “Iridescent.” I had forgotten how great this song was and it prompted me to add the album “A Thousand Suns” to my media player. I also work with very creative people. To continue the signs, I had an email exchange with a close friend about the lyrics being revolution-inspiring and the song “New Divide.” This song was on the Transformers 2 soundtrack. While working on my bike one night with the radio as background noise, I heard “Crawling” which reminded me of my little brother’s memorial. Strangely, “Crawling” repeated itself without human intervention. After all, it was my brother’s favorite song.

Then things began to snowball. On a cold and wet walk to the office, “Waiting for the End” began to blast through my ear pods. The very next weekend, the boys and I were watching TV. As I browsed through the online guide, I noticed Palladium had something of interest; Linkin Park live at Milton Keynes in the U.K. The three of us watched and Son #1 made the statement that he really liked the lead singer’s voice. All of this prompted a full-scale overhaul of the tunes on the media player to be replaced by all of my Linkin Park albums. But what really got me is one night while making dinner. The boys were upstairs playing, I could hear their laughter echoing through the house. My wife was napping and I was preparing tacos, drinking an ice cold PBR, and listening to some digital music on Music Choice. As I’m frying shells, “Leave Out All the Rest” came on. And for the first time, I really ‘heard’ the message.

And all of this may not have any significant effect on you and may seem completely coincidental. On the surface it may be nothing more than dumb luck and my own subconscious way of not feeling so alone in such a large sea. But couldn't it be more? Couldn't it be the inexplicable and tangled tapestry of our existence on a larger communicative plane? Think of children with autism so acutely focused on patterns and how their connections are related. Is this not a pattern? Could it not be all related to something? Or maybe even someone?


This is how I know things are connected. I climbed into my brother's wrecked car only hours after his death eight years ago. I was able to understand one last time where he was emotionally because I ejected the last and only CD in his changer. It was Linkin Park. I will always be tied to him through the mist and mystery of where he is now because of this, coincidence or not. In life and death, he and I have this.