by Kelly Utt
“No,” I say as I reach one hand out to hold his. His little hand clasps my index finger and holds on tight.
“When will she wake up?” he asks.
“Dr. Wong isn’t sure,” I reply. “He thought maybe she would wake up today, but her body needs more time to heal.“
“How long?“
“Nobody knows for sure,” I say. “I really wish we did. I want Mommy to wake up. I want to talk to her and I want things to go back to the way they were before she got in the car accident with you, your brothers, and Mama Marjorie.“
“Me too, Daddy,“ my boy says in the most pitiful little voice. This is so much to ask a young child to handle. Too much.
“Daddy?“
“Yes?“
“Is the baby still in Mommy‘s belly?“
“Yes, it is,” I say. “And that’s something we can be very happy about. We don’t know for sure that the baby is going to be okay, but it’s really good news to hear that our baby is still in Mommy‘s belly.“
“But the baby could still die.“
I take a breath before answering. I try to put myself in Ethan’s shoes and consider this from his perspective. His four-year-old mind doesn’t understand everything about human gestation. For all I know, he imagines a full-size newborn in Ali’s belly right now.
“You’re right,“ I say. “The baby could die. But I want you to know that the baby doesn’t look like babies do when they’re born. Right now, the baby is so small that it’s probably no bigger than one of your little toy cars. Maybe even half of one of your toy cars. It’s tiny.“
“Really?“ Ethan asks.
“Yes,“ I confirm. “It’s very small. And it doesn’t look like a baby at all yet. Sort of like a blob of cells. Kind of like a fish egg.“
“Oh,” Ethan says, getting excited. Now I’m talking in terms that he has a frame of reference for. He’s a smart boy. He likes to understand as much as he can about the world around us.
“I’ve seen fish eggs,” he says, sounding proud. “I know what they look like.”
“Good,“ I say. “I thought you might. So if the baby in Mommy‘s belly dies, it means that those cells stop growing. It doesn’t mean that what you think of as a newborn baby dies. But the cells die and won’t have a chance to grow into a full-size baby. Does that make sense?”
“Yes,” Ethan says. “Then our baby will just get another body.“ He says this matter-of-factly, the same way he did yesterday when telling us that he remembered watching Ali and me before we became his parents. He seems to know a lot about how things work. Who am I to doubt him? I believe it’s entirely possible that kids his age remember more of what it was like before they were born. They haven’t become hardened by a world full of people telling them it’s just their imagination. They are still speaking from a real, true place.
“You’re probably right,” I say.
“I am.“
“I like to think,” I continue. “That the fourth baby who belongs with us will find a way to get to us, even if this body isn’t healthy enough to stay in Mommy‘s belly right now.”
Ethan Ethan shakes his head up and down. “Yes, daddy.“
He sits quietly for a minute, thinking it all over.
“Daddy?“ he asks.
“Yes, son? What is it?“
“Does the same thing happen if a little kid dies?”
His question takes me by surprise. Our poor little guy. He has big questions. And they are, no doubt, influenced by everything he’s been through this year. “I’m not sure I understand what you mean,“ I say. I figure it’s best to let him clarify so I don’t go into more detail then he wants to hear right now.
“I mean if a little kid like me dies... Could Mommy grow me a new body in her belly?”
Now I’m stunned. My poor, sweet little guy. These are awful scary thoughts for someone his age. “You know,” I say, looking him right in the eye. “There are a lot of things about life and the Universe we live in that we just don’t know for sure. And that’s one of those things. I think it’s possible. It’s a nice idea. And it makes sense to me. But I don’t know for sure.“
He scrunches up his face as he continues to think.
“Do you feel afraid about dying?” I ask. It’s hard to talk about, but I want him to know he can come to me with any concerns. I want him to know that I have the courage to tackle the tough questions.
“Yes,“ he says simply as he kicks one of his little legs nervously.
“Were you afraid you might die when you fell off the roof before I caught you?“
“Yes,“ he says, beginning to cry now. I reach over and scoop my son up out of his chair and place him on my lap so I can hold him.
“It’s okay to cry.“ I said quietly.
He does cry, harder and harder. His sobs are deep and heartfelt. His pain moves me to tears and we cry together. When he’s gotten enough out that he can speak again, he continues with the rest of what’s on his mind.
“Daddy?“ he asks again. “If Mommy dies and I die, will we be together?“
He lifts himself up and away from me so he can see my face when I answer. He has both a wisdom and a naïveté about him that is heartbreaking and beautiful all at the same time. I feel the weight of the responsibility that I have to reassure him, but also to guide his young mind so he can be at peace as much as possible with the natural order of things. Birth and death are part of being human. They’re the cycle of life and there’s no escaping them. I know Ethan’s young mind is in the developmental place where he begins to question those things. He would be doing so even if our family wasn’t facing these issues up close and personal.
“I want you to know we’re going to keep you safe,” I say. I don’t want you to worry.“
He looks at me skeptically. “What if just I die?“
I don’t know how to answer that question but I have to answer it somehow. Ethan deserves an answer.
“Son,” I begin. “I don’t think you’re going to die until you’re an old man. When that time comes, I think you’ll be ready, like John Wendell was.
“What if it happens sooner?” Like when I’m a kid?”
“Then, I think, your spirit will be safe and will end up in another body to live another lifetime. You told me that you remembered dying when you lived in Ancient Greece, right? And you ended up here okay.“
“The part before the dying was scary,“ he says.
“I can understand that,” I affirm. “But I don’t think John Wendell was scared before he died. He was ready to go. And he talked about seeing other people who had died before him in his room. They were all people he knew and loved. I think that helped it to not be scary for him.“
“I want to stay with you and Mommy and my brothers,” Ethan says, his voice sounding shaky.
“And I think you will,” I assure. “You belong with us. You’re our boy. I don’t think you’re going anywhere.“
“If I do die,” Ethan pleads between sniffles. “Can I come and talk to you in a dream like Granddad Alec did? Can we have more of the same dreams like the one where you were calling for Mommy?“
This is going too far now. I don’t want to scare Ethan any further by dwelling on this topic. It’s time to steer the conversation so we can move on.
“Son,” I say as I pull him up against me and pat his little back gently. “Those are things that we don’t have to worry about today. How about we talk about this again another day? If you think of any questions before the next time we talk, tell your mind to remember them. How does that sound?“
Ethan is quiet and seems like he might have had his fill of this topic for the moment. I hope I’ve done enough to reassure him. I don’t want to lie to him either. It’s a difficult balance. As I look at my son, I decide I can’t wait to tell him about my deployment until after dinner. It wouldn’t be right at this point. Not when we’ve discussed such heavy topics. I need to go ahead and tell him everything so he doesn’t feel tricked or lied to. I give it a few minutes
to make sure he doesn’t have anything else to say before I change the subject. When he remains quiet for what feels like a long while, I go ahead.
“Ethan,“ I begin. “I have something that I need to tell you about. It’s something that came as a surprise to me earlier today. And it isn’t a good kind of surprise.“ He again leans back and looks me straight in the eye, expectantly. “The Air Force called me today. Do you remember how I thought I was all done working for them? I thought I was done, but a part of being a soldier means they can call me back and ask me to do more work if they need me for a very important job.”
He looks like he’s partially processing this information, but doesn’t yet realize I’ll be going away. “It turns out they do need me to come back and do a very important job,” I continue, gauging Ethan‘s response. “And they told me I have to go and start that job tomorrow morning.“
“What, Daddy?” Ethan asks, tears beginning to fill his eyes again. He’s old enough to remember me working for the Air Force and going on trips away from home. I haven’t been out for even a whole year yet.
“I know it isn’t the good kind of surprise,” I repeat. “Uncle Liam has to go, too. He and I do the same kind of work and the Air Force says they need us both for the very important job. Early tomorrow morning, before you wake up, I’ll give you and your brothers a kiss on the forehead. Then Uncle Liam and I have to drive to an Air Force Base where we will get on an airplane to go and do the important job.“
“But, Daddy,” Ethan says, his voice breaking right along with both of our hearts. “Who will take care of me and my brothers?”
Oh, my sweet, sweet little boy. He’s precious. I thought I’d done everything right so that he could have a good, happy life. It’s why I retired from the Air Force last year. It’s why we moved home to Ithaca to be near family. Things have come so far undone. The twists and turns we’ve experienced have made the calm and stable life Ali and I created for our little boys into a nightmare. I feel terrible. I take a long deep breath, doing my best to steady myself so I can make Ethan feel safe in this dangerous world.
“Papa Roddy, Mama Marjorie, and Grandma are all three going to be taking care of you. You’ll stay living here at this Lake Tahoe house as long as Mommy is in the hospital. You can count on all three of your grandparents. They’re going to be taking care of you just like Mommy and I always have. Joe will probably be here sometimes, too.”
“But, but… When will you come home? Or when will you come back here to this home?“ he begs.
“That’s the worst part of the surprise,“ I say somberly. “I don’t know when. Being a soldier means I have to go where the Air Force needs me. I don’t know when I’ll be all done.“
“Will you be home for my birthday?“
Ethan’s birthday is in October. That’s a lot of forethought for someone his age. Especially since it’s still summer.
“Son, I don’t know. I wish I did. I’m so sorry.“
He begins to cry even harder. “I want Lady!“ he wails. “I want her here at this Lake Tahoe house. I want her here right now, Daddy.“
Oh, no. I forgot all about getting Lady here. All the hubbub today had me distracted and it completely slipped my mind. I should have mentioned it at the family meeting. My eyes open wide and my eyebrows raise high on my forehead as I realize the enormity of my oversight. It may not seem like much, but to Ethan it’s everything. I quickly think about how I can orchestrate things to get her here.
“I know you do,” I say.
I don’t want to commit to anything because I won’t even be around to make it happen. Ethan doesn’t ask me to commit and I leave it alone. I’ll be sure to tell the grandparents about his request. If we can get Lady here, I’m all for it. Ethan is still crying when Marjorie leans her head out the back door to tell us supper is ready.
“Hamburgers and grilled cheese, on the table,” she says cheerfully. “Come and get it, boys.“
I’m not sure if she can tell from a distance that Ethan is upset. She closes the door and goes back inside. I give him time to get it all out of his system. He doesn’t say anything else, he just cries. I know he’s hungry. I’m again struck by how our bodies insist on functioning even when we don’t want them to. No matter how sad he is, he’s a little kid with a fast metabolism and he has to eat.
“Are you hungry?” I ask. “I know I am.”
“Yes, Daddy,” he says. He’s collecting him himself now.
“How about we go inside and eat some of the hamburgers and grilled cheese sandwiches that Mama Marjorie has cooked for us? You know she’s a very good cook and her food always tastes good.”
“I know, Daddy,” he says. He climbs down from my lap and again grips my index finger tightly with his little hand. He’s ready to walk up the dock, the stairs, and across the deck to enter the house.
“One more thing before we head inside,” I say. “I’m going to tell your brothers about my very important job that I have to go to tomorrow. I’m also going to tell them about Mommy not being awake yet. Little Will is probably still too young to understand a lot of what I’ll say, but Leo knows. Can I count on you to help me explain it to them?“
“Yes, Daddy. I’ll help you.“
With that, I stand up and the two of us walk slowly back up to the house and inside. We all gather around the table and eat the food Marjorie has cooked. Duke and Taye aren’t back yet for the evening. Or maybe they’re staying away to give us some space. Along with Marjorie, Roddy, Mom, and Joe, we have the nicest dinner possible under the circumstances.
When dinner is over, Ethan and I tell Will and Leo that I have to go away for my very important job. We explain how Uncle Liam has to go, too, and how Mommy isn’t awake yet. Little Will doesn’t seem phased. Perhaps he’s picking up on the happy energy that us adults are doing our best to exude. Or maybe it’s a survival mechanism that babies have to remain resilient. Either way, I think our baby boy is going to be all right here with his grandparents and his big brothers. Leo is upset by the news and does some crying, but to my surprise, Ethan‘s reassurance does the trick to help him handle it. Leo responds well to his big brother’s soothing and seems to feel like, with Ethan by his side, he’ll be alright. I’m proud of my little guys. All three of them.
We spend the rest of the evening playing and talking together. Just like this morning, I give the boys my full attention. I read them stories and I help them get bathed and into bed. I only step away for a brief few minutes to sign the paperwork that Roddy’s attorney drew up. The boys want to sleep in the big bed with me again and I feel the same way. I don’t want my little ones any farther away than they have to be right now. The four of us fall asleep exhausted and apprehensive about the future, but happy to be here together in this moment. At the end of this particular day, it’s all I can ask.
As I sleep, my mind turns over a number of strange dreams which haunt me. I don’t get the sense that these dreams carry any type of intuition or spiritual contact behind them. But rather, they seem like my brain trying to work out its stresses and frustrations. First, I dream of sitting on the dock here at our Lake Tahoe vacation rental house as a storm comes in and obliterates the decking around me. Next, I dream of sitting beside Ali in the hospital when she opens her eyes and smiles at me, only when I turn to look at her a second time she’s unconscious again with the ventilator tube down her throat. That dream moves quickly on to one where I’m back in the Air Force and being asked to pilot a drone that I know is going to kill innocent women and children. I try to speak to say that I won’t do it, but no sound will come out of my mouth. Finally, just before my alarm is set to go off for the early morning wake up time, I dream of a future scene where our four boys are all grown up. Ali and I are there with them and we’re all celebrating Mom‘s birthday around a great big dinner table. Marjorie and Roddy are there looking as happy as ever. Nicky and Luis are there too and they apparently had another baby, because Sara has a younger brother. Joe is by Mom’s side and
the two of them are smiling adoringly at each other. Jen and Duke look happy, as do Taye and Malcolm. Liam is sitting right beside me and he has Estella with him, too. Our boys look happy and healthy and whole. All four of them. I think it’s the most beautiful scene I’ve ever witnessed. If only reality could turn out so nice.
When I wake up, I do so happily. If I’ve learned anything from the events of this year, it’s that I can’t take any day or any moment for granted. I’ve spent a lot of time being afraid or in denial, pretending to not be as afraid as I am deep down. This morning, I focus on simply being grateful. It’s all I know to do. Thankfully, I still feel centered after the hypnosis session Joe facilitated yesterday on the dock. I shower quickly then kiss my little boys on the foreheads just like I promised them I would.
Marjorie and Roddy wake up to see us off. I tell them about Ethan‘s wish to have Lady here in Lake Tahoe and I implore them to get her here if it all possible. They’re receptive and they assure me they’ll take good care of my boys. Before I leave, Marjorie settles into my spot in the big bed so that when the boys wake up and open their little eyes, they’ll see her there with them. Roddy promises to climb into the other side and make good use of the king-size bed. My in-laws promise they’ll keep me posted every time there’s an update about Ali or the boys or the business. I tell them I’ll be in touch every single chance I get.
I take one last glance at the stone wall beneath the window where Ali and I enjoyed an amazing lovemaking session the day we arrived. It’s dark outside so I can’t see the lake, but I tell it a silent goodbye with my mind. I’m not sure if my family will still be here when I’m able to come back to them. Even though the events that have happened here in Lake Tahoe have been some of the most difficult of my entire life, the lake has been a calming presence which has helped me get through. I don’t feel any ill will towards it.
I pick up my travel bag and I carry it out to the rental car Liam and I are driving south to Nellis in, then I sit down in the passenger seat and tell Liam I’m ready. I don’t look back. I steel myself for the mission that lies ahead.