The significance of this messenger bag lies only in the fact that I have not used it in years. In it, I placed my hot pink running shoes, gold clutch purse, and two journals that I am currently filling with all of my most "important" thoughts and ideas.
I drove the 4.5 hours to Ann Arbor by myself last Friday, as Jeremiah had left a day before so that he would be able to join the other groomsmen on the golf course early that morning. I listened to my favorite Pandora stations, sang to myself, talked on the phone, and only stopped once to pee. By the time I reached our hotel and checked into our room, I knew that a run would be the only cure for the cramps in my legs and back from driving all day.
I rummaged through the contents of the messenger bag, so that I could retrieve my hot pink runners from the bottom. Instead of finding only the items I had added back home, my fingers brushed across a slip of paper at the bottom of the bag.
The paper was a reservation slip used to reserve a spot to sing a song at Louie's Karaoke Bar in Chicago on North Avenue. It was written on in Matt's handwriting and said "Matt C and the sistas".
I felt myself gasp, and my hand covered my mouth. I sat down on the floor and held the crinkled piece of paper to my heart. I desperately wracked my brain for a memory of a time that I was there with my brother and sister, planning on singing a karaoke song together, but I couldn't recall the evening.
How many years ago was this night? Why did I have my messenger bag with me? Did we ever get the chance to sing, or did we lose our nerve? What song was Matt planning on singing with us? I wish I could remember these details, but they are lost with Matt. He would remember.
The thing about Louie's Karaoke, is that it does not hold the type of memories that are easily forgotten. I have been there dozens of times and vividly remember each of them. I celebrated one of my best friend's bachelorette parties there. My dad and I sat and had a beer together at Louie's after my first week of teaching. Louie's bar serves popcorn all night long, the bartenders are surprisingly good at rapping, and people dance to imperfect voices singing songs that are meaningful enough to take a risk and hold a microphone.
I've sang songs from our college days with my best girlfriends, taken shots to celebrate birthdays, shared happy hour beers, and danced until my feet ached.
The fact that I cannot remember this evening at Louie's with my brother and sister, and the knowledge that Matt is probably the only one who would be able to fill this hole in my memory reminds me of one important truth:
Heaven holds secrets that we might not have answers to here on Earth.
Some of those secrets are small moments of time, missing from the scrapbooks in our minds. Some of those secrets are momentous, answers about our fate, knowledge that we need not have.
Matt knows if he was going to sing "To Be With You" or "Man in the Mirror" with his two adoring sisters. He knows when my broken heart will heal. He knows if and when God will grace us with the desires of our hearts. He knows that it is all a part of a perfect plan, with perfect timing.
Sine I've lost my brother, I have spent many hours going through his pictures on Facebook, looking at the belongings in his room, and searching through mementos I have kept. I have googled his name. I have reached out to people who he loved and communicated with his friends. All of these things I have done with the hope that I would come across something that would make me feel close to him again, as close to him as if he were standing next to me, teasing me, laughing with me, shaking me by the shoulders the way he always did when he was trying to get me out of my own head.
I've wanted to feel as close to him as I felt when we were dancing together in bars, talking long-distance over the phone, texting to check on one another, watching movies in the family room, hanging out on the back porch, or laughing together as a family over dinner.
In truth, there is no item that I will come across that will ever make feel as close to my brother as his physical presence once did. I may continue to find small reminders of him, treasures of our time together, glimpses into his world as the years go by. These items will be snippets of inspiration, leading me to a more heavenly perspective...just as this little slip of paper did last Friday.
This week, a lost memory of a time at a karaoke bar gives me hope that there are answers waiting for me in Heaven. Answers are waiting for me in Heaven, and so is my happy, healthy, handsome little brother.
When I go back to Louie's, I know that it will be worth remembering with all of my heart...
Listen to "To Be With You"
Listen to "Man in the Mirror"
