ECHOES OF MY LOST SON

ECHOES OF MY LOST SON

By Chima Chikazunga

My son is gone, that’s all I know. My heart won’t believe he’s gone, and so my tears flow. Running down my face screaming his name my tears echo. These are the echoes of my lost son. He called me that day, I’ll never forget it. He wanted to check in on me, but couldn’t get through. So I started searching with his wife, what’s a mother to do? I hear his voice every night, the pain of not knowing and being forced to declare him dead makes me question even my own purpose in this life. This empty void inside me, cuts the sharpest knife. Recently, I was asked a question: “What I thought was the purpose of life?” And immediately I thought…to live. It’s just that simple. But now I’m here…and nothing is ever forgotten, it always comes back somehow… My son is gone, nobody knows but my tears cry, and they echo. These are the echoes of my lost son.

The night’s air chills my body as I lay here wide awake. Another night of tossing and turning in my bed, pacing in my head, thoughts racing from bad to worse... all because I worry about my son. I don’t sleep because he’s always on my mind. He doesn’t know it or maybe he does but I worry as much as any loving parent. There isn’t a day that goes by my thoughts aren’t on him but on what I might do. I used to worry a lot. Now I don’t. Nothing to do with whether I’m a good parent or not but there’s a certain level of comfort in knowing he’s safe. And I wasn’t always this way, this is all somewhat new to me. I think about the world and how it’s already begun to judge him before he leaves the front door. How society already views him a certain way if he’s wearing a hood or gets pulled over by a cop. One false move and... “ license and registration” soon turns into “I did what I had to do, he could’ve had a gun” or “ he should’ve complied.”

It’s scary how one false assumption can cost you your life when you look a certain way. I wish I could do something so it weren’t the case but I can’t. because last night it all started to happen again. Why is it getting worse? Why am I so worried? No, no, I can control this... I got this... I reassured myself there was no need to worry but deep down I knew I didn’t have any control over it. So I get out of bed and walk downstairs to the fridge. I open it and the cold air somehow warms my sweating body. And I keep thinking about it ...WHY is it this way? WHY hasn’t it changed? Why am I here again....And that’s when it hit me as I’m think about the past and how in one moment... a false assumption changed my life forever. It was like it never happened, but now I worry…And that’s my problem... I worry about people too much. But I kept that sense of hope. Still haven’t lost it. and now I’m here. Laying down looking up at the ceiling... and though I should be asleep that empty void keeps my mind racing. I feel safe but I’ll always worry about my son...When I woke up this morning, I had no idea I was protecting someone, but also someone was protecting me … and in the end… he was; protecting me… But now...My son is gone, that’s all I know and it echoes. These are the echoes of my lost son.