This was not a moment in my life when I was speechless, searching for the right words. I had no awareness of words, nor even of language. I was suddenly completely untethered, falling through a frigid void, with a building primal scream, roaring through my soul, fighting to escape.
~
when I got the strange hollow call
informing me my son had been killed
the disembodied voice on the other end
asked into the silence that followed
“sir, are you there?”
all that finally came forth
emanating from the pit of my being
was a coarse choking guttural wail
like the keening of a wild animal
rob kistner © 2019
Because sometimes words are useless to us. The thing that really pierced my heart in this was those words falling into your silence. Very strong.
I purposely went there Sarah as the dramatic silence from which the insanity grief explodes!
powerful statement of the pain of losing a loved one …
Thank you Kate!
That must have been a tough poem for you to write , so sorry but thank you for sharing x
It was tough for a moment Catherine, but I now carry my son Aaron forever in my heart!
Such a touching recount of a heart-rending moment in your life, Rob.
I remember it vividly. It was the first time in my life that I was told a loved one, a child I raised for 18 years, had been violently killed in a horrible accident. It was at time I found myself emitting the tortured keening of a wounded animal. Impossible for md to ever forget..
Rob, so devastating, beyond words.
It was devastating Lisa.
This is heartbreaking. I am so very sorry.
Thank you Toni!
I’m so sorry Rob. That tugged on my heart.
Thank you Christine!
I’m sucker-punched, Rob.
It was the blow I experienced Kim, and the impact I want to share with this piece.
Moving. A grief forever without words.
It was Kerfe. But now what I enjoy are the beautiful memories of my Aaron, enhanced by the passing of time.
I cannot imagine.
It was at the time, devastating Ken.
The deepest loss has the loudest wail. I am so sorry.
Long enough ago Susie, that now I hold dear the wonderful memories of my Aaron.
Whew….I hear the wail. It took strength to write it down. Bravo. (And sadness.)
The love abides Susan — forever.
Oh Rob. I had no idea you had survived the worst possible loss a parent can have. I have heard that keening wail from the depths of a parent who has lost her child. I know exactly what it sounds like, a wail like no other. I truly do not know how a parent stays standing after such a loss, but I have watched others do so, so I know it is possible – not that we have any choice. This poem went straight to my heart. Bless you.
It is a moment seared into my heart and mind Sherry — but now I have the dear memories of my boy to embrace. Two important motivations to continue on were my other son and my daughter, who were hurting as much as I, and needed love and understanding.
powerfully written, thank you for this stark reminder that for the deepest emotions, there simply are no words.
When the mind shuts down JP, and primal emotion takes over — words and language cease.
It is a terrible message to hear. Best wishes.
It passes eventually as the sweet memories criwd it out Frank.
I like how you didn’t capitalize the word “Sir.” Something about that communicates to me the hollow feeling of grief and the devastation of the news.
It was the most horrible moment of my life RW.
Thank you Rob for writing this and sharing a so painful message that you received of your son’s death. This is something a parent just doesn’t want to happen and I can’t praise you enough for being able to share this.
You are welcome OE.
This is so heartbreaking! Change that takes place within is beyond anyone’s comprehension without the experience. It’s almost like someone hearing about poison, someone seeing it & the another one tasting it. The taster knows.
Sometimes knowledge is that devastating.
So sorry, Rob.
Thank you Sumana, but my Aaron now abides in my heart as sweet memories.
I remember you writing about your son before. Harrowing. I can’t imagine how you coped.
It is a coping that actively continues all these years later Jane. It took me two years to get control of the anger. My other son, Aaron’s younger brother, and his older sister were my motivation to get right. They were hurting too and we all needed each other. My three children were extremely close to each other. It still lives as a horror in my heart — but I no longer let it control me.
Terrible!
Sometimes the most powerful poetry is made from simple statements of fact. Such grief and horror needs no embroidering.
The initial horror impacted me so significantly Rosemary, that these years later, there is still a scar, and a touch of anger. But my boy Aaron now lives in me embodied as the wonderful memories I have of a kind, brilliant, vocally talented, and remarkably handsome young man. The teen worship leader of his church, on his way to college. On the day we said goodbye, the 1,200-seat capacity church was filled to overflowing, and the tearful song of the 35-voice youth choir that he directed, and for which he was lead male vocalist. A motorcade nearly 3/4 of a mile long, gently carried my Aaron to his final rest.
How devastating Rob, I can so much understand that no words suffice for such pain…
I have now been able Björn, to embrace plenty of wonderful memories of my boy to warm my heart!
Truly heartbreaking Rob.
It was a debastating time, but the heartbreak has been overwritten now by beautiful warm memories of Aaron.
Exactly what happened to me the day my dad called to say that my mother had died.
It is a heartbreaking moment of shock and grief, impossible to comprehend or make sense if.
A powerful, emotional poem, Rob. I can feel what your response was. Mine was a scream when my father died.
This takes courage.
It is the love that causes the agony of the loss Sara, and the love that carries you through.