In the 80 days that Steve had been missing, I’d always anticipated that he’ll be coming back home. But sometimes, it felt like that the probability of Steve coming back was nil. There were times I’d felt uneasiness in the pit of my stomach because I had no idea where he was.
The longest time Steve and I were apart was when he was training to become an FBI Special Agent. We didn’t see each other for two months and yet, we called each other almost everyday. After that, I would visit or stay with him. I knew then where he was and he was doing something really important for himself and I supported that. We always supported each other’s career. We both believe that a person’s work should be something that you enjoy. It should be more than just a job.
The EAP staff from the FBI picked me up from work that morning when the news broke out that Steve had been found deceased. My mom and my aunt were out of town and Kyle was in the Nursery. They were keeping me company but I felt so alone. When the SAC finally confirmed that it was his gun, I just wanted to ran out and see Steve. I didn’t understand why I couldn’t see him. Everybody around me was saying:
“No. You can’t.”
“We’re still processing his identification.”
“It’s not a good idea.”
“You may want to remember the way you remembered him when he was alive.”
And so on.
He’d been found and I couldn’t see him? I couldn’t comprehend that at that time. I wanted to know for sure that it was him. My mind was processing that he had passed away but here in my heart, he was so much alive. I didn’t care what state his body was in. The Coroner Detective already warned me that he was in the advanced stage of decomposition but I still wanted to see him. So, I have to wait until Steve was transferred to the Mortuary. When the Funeral Director called me to ask if I still wanted a private viewing, I said YES.
I’ll never forget that day, seeing Steve again. I touched his forehead because I wanted to touch him again and to see if this was real. I broke down in tears because I was thinking that this was not supposed to happen. Not to him. Of all people, not my Steve. My mom and I said a little prayer for him. I had to see him again because I know for sure that the “not knowing” would be worse than death for me.