Past
There are moments that mark our lives. Moments when we realize nothing will ever be the same and time is divided into two parts.
Before and after.
The day Linc found out his father died is one of those days. Linc is sitting on my front porch, waiting for me when I get home from school. He didn’t show up today, and when I texted him to ask why, he never replied, but I know by the devastation in his eyes.
Losing his father has been one of his greatest fears.
He knew his father was a strong man, a tough man. But he was also a brave soldier who fought for his country and Linc knew that he would lay down his life in an instant if it meant saving the lives of others.
Which is exactly what had happened. His unit had been ambushed and Sergeant Cole Matthews took on most of the gunfire, protecting his men.
I’ve never seen Linc cry before.
Come to think of it, I’ve never seen any man cry before. But today he breaks down right there in my arms, weeping for the loss of his father and all the days they would never have.
I hold him tight, trying to absorb every ounce of his pain as my own. It’s hard to think about either one of my parents dying. I don’t know what I would do. I only know the ache would be deep and impossible to forget.
This will change his life forever. His father is his hero. He looks up to him, and in many ways wants to be just like him—honorable, loyal, and courageous. Even though they don’t agree on much, especially Linc’s plans for the future, the man loved his son. I saw it in his eyes every time he looked at him.
He was proud of him.
After a while, he finally lifts his red, swollen eyes to mine. “He’s gone forever, Syl. He’s never comin’ back.”
I don’t respond. What should I say? I should probably say what people normally say when someone dies. Things likeI’m sorry,orhe’s in a better place,orthis is God’s plan,but none of those things sound right. None of those words will give Linc comfort right now, and anything less than acknowledging how much he’s hurting seems like a slap in the face to me.
So I remain silent, reaching up to cup his cheek. Something inside of me shifts as I look into his deep, sad eyes. I can’t define it and I’m afraid to acknowledge it but it’s there, and I swear, I think I see it reflecting back at me.
I long to take away his pain. To ease the grief that is consuming him. But I have no idea how to do that.
Linc stands abruptly, pulling a forearm across his wet face. Once he finds his composure, he looks at me again. Those beautiful green eyes that are always so full of life and bursting with happiness are now darkened with sorrow and despair.
The sight makes my heart twist with agony.
“I need to go,” he says. “I left Mama alone with Aunt Shirley. I just…I needed to see you. I needed to hear your voice.”
“Want me to come with you?” I offer.
I don’t want to leave his side.
I don’t want him to face any of this alone.
Of course he has his mother, but he will be strong for her. He will never allow his mother to see him fall apart like that. That’s why he came here. He knows he can’t keep it bottled up.
That’s not how Linc is built.
He feels every emotion with full force, and he knows he can let it go andfeelit all with me. Whenever we are afraid or hurt or happy or sad, we always find what we need in each other.
“No, I need to be with Mama for a while.” He presses his lips to my forehead, the gesture filling me with warmth like it always does. “I’ll call you later,” he promises, his voice soft.
I watch helplessly as he walks to his pickup truck and climbs inside. Then I stay rooted to my spot on the porch until he disappears into a thick cloud of dust, taking my heart with him.
