When a masculine figure has disappeared from our presence, what is there more left to say? It could be a Father. It could be a Son. A husband. Grandfather. Uncle. Friend. Lover. Just know that when a masculine energy, within our inner Circle, has departed from this world, there is an unexplainable void. One doesn’t know how to convey our emotions, sometimes. You must simply feel it. Frankly speaking, that can be more agonizing than speaking about it.

Back to, the son. When you are the son, there are particular expectations for. There is the carrying on of the family name. Leading the family when father has passed. He is expected to care for his mother. He is expected to care for the entire well-being of his family. There are high hopes for him. High expectations. Visions of his success has already been laid out. His future has been set in stone.

So imagine. Just imagine all of that being taken away. The shock. The agony. Turmoil and despair. No. This was not part of the plan. Yet, it happened, and the hands of time cannot be turned back.

Can one imagine the flashbacks? Can anyone conceptualize how it feels for a mother to return back to his moment of birth? She was there from the very beginning. She nursed him. She reared him. And, she watched him grow (and develop) into the handsome, well-versed man he became. His first steps. His graduation. Prom. First kiss. The moment he said, I do. He had his first child. Mysteriously, it’s suddenly thrown away. What happens next?

When people reflect on the murder, disappearance of men, rarely do they imagine the mourning process of, his mother. What must that be like? And, who understands except for other compassionate, mothers?

There is no love like a Mother’s love. It’s often towards the end of a man’s life, when they feel such emotions, the most. Mother because the first image when a man is dying on the battlefields of wars. Mother becomes one of the most important images when a man lays in the hospital and is taking his last breath. It is Mother!

Unless you are a Mother, and have lost a son, you cannot possibly comprehend what it feels like to go through that more than devastating process. What you can do is listen to the stories of those who have. You can listen to the songs in honor of a Mother’s loss.

I do not know what catches me boy

As night approaches, misery lost in the day

As soon as it gets dark, he hugs me

My boy, my boy, my boy, my breath and my blood

My joy, my joy, and my man

My boy, my boy, my truth and my lie; and you end, and you end, my poor thing

I do not know what catches me boy, as the night envelops me; with its shadows I always get lost

Nighttime came be the most difficult when one’s mind begins to reminesce. For, within the night, there is a stillness. Pain seems to creep a little louder, when everything seems, still.

The singing of sorrow demands the right voice. In addition, it demands the right texture, timber, and vocal pitch. Such vocals can reach so deep, into spaces, which cannot be touched; places, which have yet to be healed and cleansed.

Let’s reach a little deeper into the singing style of Mother and the pain of losing a son.

Tzeni Vanou