Remembering Sage

By Brad Warren

May 18, 2026

It’s been 6 years today since we lost our oldest son, Sage, to Fentanyl poisoning. Our youngest son, Jude, is now older than Sage was when he died. That seems crazy to think about.

I wonder where he’d be working, whether he would be married, and if we would be grandparents by now.  Or maybe he’d be living with his brothers. Our other 2 sons live together now, and I know they would’ve loved to have a 3rd roommate with the same last name.

Other thoughts that come to mind: Would he be sober? I think he would. He loved sobriety, and he always said it was harder for a kid than an adult. That’s true. I bet he’d still give hugs that would crack your back, and I bet he could still run like greased lightning. And no doubt he’d be funnier than ever. Humor gets better with age, at least til you turn 30 and start holding your tongue. I wonder if he would have a house by now and how close it would be to ours. He loved this house he grew up in and made us promise to sell it to him one day.

Or maybe he is right where he needs to be. Maybe he’s smiling down at us, saying, “You have no idea how great it is here.” Maybe he knows his greatest work will be through his family and that true empathy for others in pain is the greatest gift you can give the world. Didn’t Jesus do that? Maybe he knows how much we miss him, and I bet he takes special care of his mom. He always did.  

Or maybe he is still right here with us because I know I feel him sometimes. I bet he travels more than I do.  We are all going to die, and I have suspicions that we have choices at that point. And I bet Sage chooses to be very active. That’s just the way he is.

I don’t want to get caught up in the sin of certainty because none of us know the hour or the day. I don’t know if I should take my body with me or whether it’ll still have tattoos or not. I don’t know who got it more right, the Catholics, the Baptists, or the Presbyterians, and frankly, I don’t care.  And I don’t think Jesus cares either.  But I do know that wherever Heaven is, Sage is there waiting for me. And if a thousand years feels like a day, these 6 years are going to seem like one minute has passed since we’ve seen each other.  It’s a long minute for Michelle and me, but God is teaching me some patience before I get there.

Love you, buddy. See you in a minute.

Brad Warren, Loving dad