Page 40 of Silver Secrets

“Were you overseas when your son was born?”

“Thankfully, no. We’d just gotten home two days before she went into labor. It was like she waited for me to be back and then her body knew it was time.” He shook his head, blowing out a big breath before continuing. “Mel ended up needing a c-section. Christ, I freaked out. It was all ‘heart rate’s dropping’ and ‘baby in distress’ and then suddenly they were wheeling her out of the room and down the hall, telling me I needed to get into scrubs. It was terrifying, but the minute I walked into the operating room, I saw her smile and wiggle her fingers for me to go over and sit by her. She was so strong.”

He closed his eyes for a moment and laughed. “You know, at one point she even reminded me to breathe? And then the doctor pulled Mikey out and we heard his first cry over the drape… the look on her face was just pure elation. When I think about her, that’s the face I always see.”

“That’s such an extraordinarily special moment to share with someone.”

He nodded, but his eyes were sparkling with tears. “Mikey’s entire life existed inside the span of one single heartbeat for me. He would be eight this year. Eight. And I just don’t know how to process that.” A tear escaped and flowed freely down Gage’s face. “Sometimes I forget that they’re gone. In the morning, when I’m lost in the fog of another dreamless sleep. I sometimes wake up and wait for the sounds of their busy mornings to filter in like the sunlight. Then it’ll hit me. I’ll never see them again, and I can’t help but wonder what would he be like? Would he look more like me or Melody? Would he have a favorite food? TV Show? Would he be obsessed with sports? Would there be a team he liked to cheer for? Would he play in a league for little kids?”

His free hand moved to turn his mug, but he didn’t bring it to his lips. Instead, he flexed his jaw back and forth for a moment. Sloane let the silence between them stand, knowing Gage needed time to gather his thoughts.

“I can still remember the sound of his very first cry in that operating room. It’s crystal clear in my mind. The way he felt in my arms when I held him for the first time. But for the life of me, I can’t remember that newborn smell. I remember all the hours he spent on my chest. All the hours I rocked him back to sleep. I can remember the way his beautiful fuzzy newborn hair tickled my nose every time I went to inhale that scent, but it’s not there anymore.”

Her heart broke for him. “Some of the parents that I’ve seen in my practice talk about losing those memories.”

“I’m sure it’s common. Kids grow and new memories take their place.” Gage laughed, but there was no humor behind it. “Instead of the sweet smell of a newborn, there are a million memories of muddy clothes or stinky sports gear. But that’s the thing that’s so tough, Sloane. When my memories fade, there are no new ones to replace them. There is no new laughter to replace the sound of his baby babbles. The memories just fade and nothing is left in their place.”

She reached over and let her palm rest against his cheek. “If you tell me about them, I won’t let them fade.”

“Sloane…”

“One good thing about going to school for as long as I did was the sheer number of filler courses I had to take. And one of my favorite lectures I ever attended was called ‘Death and Immortality’. It focused on death traditions from civilizations around the world. Do you know what the one major theme was in all the cultures we studied?” Gage shook his head. “The belief that as long as someone was remembered, as long as their stories were shared, as long as their names were said and celebrated, they lived on.”

She squeezed his hand tightly. “I know you have the guys. I know they were all close with your wife, and your son, and I know they’ll be here to keep saying their names. But in the moments when you don’t want to lean on them, in the moments when you are feeling like it’s too much of a burden to share your grief with them, I want to be someone who says their names too, for you. I want to honor them in my heart with you. I want to be someone who helps keep their memories alive in those quiet and lonely moments.”

He cleared his throat and shook his head. “We don’t need to do this right now. You’re hurt. I should be making sure you’re resting, not dumping my trauma on you. Burdening you with things that belong in the past.” Gage tried to stand, but Sloane stopped him.

“I want to know, Gage. Please. You sharing them with me is an honor. Never a burden.”

“I’m not a client,” he snapped. “You don’t need to fix me.”

The strangest feeling washed over her. She wanted to pull him into a hug. To pour just a little bit of her own strength into him. His heart was breaking wide open in front of her and she wanted to hold him as she whispered how much she understood his pain.

“We’re not in a session right now. I’m not asking this to help you process your grief. I’m asking you to tell me about your family because…” Sloane moved her chair closer to him with her legs as she leaned in. “Because you’re someone who is very important to me. If you don’t want to talk about it now, you don’t have to. I won’t push. But I will be here for you. Whenever you’re ready to share. And I’m not quite ready to let go of your hand yet.”

His eyes dropped to where their hands were still connected and a sad smile filled his features as his thumb swept back and forth over her skin.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “It wasn’t fair of me to snap at you. I know it’s been six years, but sometimes the pain still feels so raw.”

“I think that no matter how much time passes, you’ll always carry that pain. But that’s not always a bad thing.” Gage’s eyes crinkled in the corners. “It’s a reminder of how much love you had for them. How much love was left in your heart for your wife and your son that no longer could be expressed directly to them. That love needs to be shared, and sometimes, it comes out of us as grief. But it’s still just as potent.”

He sat quietly for a minute, their eyes locked on one another.

“It’s not just grief, Sloane. It’s guilt. They died because of me.” He finally shared as his voice cracked. “They died because I was deploying on a mission, laughing with my friends on a plane to the other side of the world to work a job that I loved. When I should have been there with them. They laid on those fucking cold metal tables, waiting for me to come identify them. They didn’t even let Mikey…” He cleared his throat as his chin quivered. “They didn’t let my little boy lay with his mother. They didn’t let her have her arms around him one last time. All I could think was how scared he must have been to be laying there all alone in a dark, cold box. How sad Mel must have been to be separated from our little boy.”

One tear fell, and then another, until it was clear that the dam holding back all his emotions had broken free. Tears poured down his face, and Sloane didn’t hesitate to reach up and wipe at his wet cheeks. “I know they weren’t there anymore. I believe they were together in whatever there is beyond this life. But they should have been laying together.”

“You’re right. They should have.”

He nodded. “I held Mel’s hand. In my wrinkled and worn uniform because I’d rushed there straight from the airfield, I didn’t know what to say. So I thanked her for everything she gave to me. A beautiful life as a husband. As a father. I told her that I’d never let anyone forget how vibrant she was. What an incredible mom she was. It’s funny,” he smiled as more tears continued to track down his face. “Mel always used to sneak Mikey ice cream. They thought I didn’t know. But I would hear the two of them giggling every night after dinner while I worked in my office. Before I… I left her there, I kissed the top of her head and told her it was okay now to give Mikey all the ice cream he wanted.

“And then I laid my hand on Mikey’s chest. He was so warm as a baby. Even as a toddler, he never wanted to be dressed because he was like a little furnace. But his skin… felt… wrong. I could almost pretend with Mel that she was just sleeping. She was always pressing her cold feet into my legs in bed.” His laughter was heartbreaking. “But Mikey, he was too cold, and my brain wouldn’t let me trick it. My heart knew it wasn’t right. There was nothing I would ever be able to do to warm him back up.”

Gage paused, his breath hitching as he shook his head back and forth.

“I laid my head against his little belly and I thanked him for being such a good son. I told him he was braver, and stronger, and smarter than I could ever be. That it was his job to look after his mommy in heaven, until I could be there with them. Beyond their injuries, they both just looked like they were sleeping. I tried to tell myself that it was all a misunderstanding. That one single kiss or wake up tickle could bring them back to me. I begged, Sloane. Cried. Screamed. I threatened the fucking person in the room with me. All the training I’ve been through in my life. The boot camps and hell weeks and deployments. The never ending tactical scenarios. And you know what? I couldn’t use a damn thing I’d ever learned before to get me through that moment. No one teaches you how to say goodbye. Did I do it right? How was I supposed to fit a lifetime of ‘I love you’s into that moment? I just wanted them to come back. Wanted to tell them the greatest thing I ever got to do wasn’t in a war theater halfway around the world. It wasn’t in a uniform, following commands. The greatest honor I ever had was being a husband and a father. And in the blink of an eye, it was all gone.”

Those final words left him in a gut-wrenching whimper. Unable to do anything else, Sloane squeezed his arm. “You did it right, Gage. Anything you would have said, or done, in that moment was the right thing. They knew how much you loved them. They knew you provided a beautiful, safe life for them.”

---