1 A.J.

I was sitting in Lindy’s office when the phone call came. Jennifer hardly ever calls me, so I answered right away. Her voice was serious as she said, “Jorge didn’t wake up this morning. When I tried to wake him up, he wasn’t breathing, and his lips were purple. They’re taking him to Las Palmas.” 

At that moment, I knew two things with more certainty than I’ve ever felt in my whole life: 1. my brother was dead 2. my brother went straight to Heaven. 

Later that day, as we drove to El Paso, I remembered something about that morning.

I’d gone for a run at the park before work. It was early, 5:00 AM. The sun was no where near rising and overcast, so it was darker than normal. Instead of staying on the path around the pond like I normally did at this hour, I veered off on the bike trail to get a little more mileage. 

Making my way back to the track around the park, there was a small patch of visible sky. I'm always intrigued by the sky when I run, so I couldn't help but stare at the little patch of night time sky. And it was during this short time, that I saw a shooting star. My initial thought was to make a wish. But then I was taken aback. What were the chances that at this moment in time, I would be at the right place to see a shooting star and that this star would make it's decent at this specific spot? As usual, I felt so lucky to be privy to such a thing.

Sitting in the west-bound car later that day, I wondered if maybe it had been a sign letting me know of my brother’s passing. 

Today is the one year anniversary of these events. I have dreaded this day for weeks because I don’t know what it will be like. Despite all of my grief counseling sessions, sometimes I’m caught off guard. 

Ideally, I would be in El Paso, so that I could visit his grave, play some music, and remember. Had I thought of it earlier, I could have taken the day off and gone to do something he would have loved like spend the day at NASA. Instead, I will be at work acting like it’s a normal day, but inside, I will know that this was the day my life became A.J.—After Jorge.