Anguish
“Anguish is an emotion and an experience that is singular and must be understood and named, especially for those of us who have experienced it. Anguish is an almost unbearable and traumatic swirl of shock, incredulity, grief, and powerlessness. Shock and incredulity can take our breath away, and grief and powerlessness often come for our hearts and our minds. But anguish, the combination of these experiences, not only takes away our ability to breathe, feel, and think- it comes from our bones. Anguish often causes us to physically crumple in on ourselves, literally bringing us to our knees or forcing us all the way to the ground. The element of powerlessness is what makes anguish traumatic. We are unable to change, reverse, or negotiate what has happened. Anguish always finds its way back to us. After going through such things; your bones are slightly different than they were before.”
-Brené Brown
We know anguish.
May 5, 2023 — The colors had begun to immerse from our gray and white landscape as new life bloomed. It was a day that offered the promises of a picturesque Spring.
My mom and I had just ordered our lunch when Jason called at 12:45pm. His voice was gentle but non-negotiable when he told me I needed to come.
A foreboding fog moved in and we walked out of the restaurant. My mom drove while I sat motionless in the passenger seat. Each of my children tumbled through my mind. Avery entered first …she had been at a dentist appointment “Please God. Not a car accident.” was my plea. Asher entered my consciousness next… My body told me it couldn’t be, he had just returned to school following his own health crisis. When the thought of Saunder pushed through a stillness fell over me like a shroud and with it a certainty life would never be the same.
When I arrived home Jason was seated on the edge of the settee on our porch waiting for me. I was no longer in my body as I moved toward him and slowly my knees met the floor between his legs. I stabilized my hands in his and waited for him to speak. His voice lacked its usual confidence and depth; ashy and weak it told the true story that lay beneath the words he shared.
“Saunder’s kayak was spotted on the Caribou River. Search and Rescue has been dispatched to look for him.”
Numbness.
::
By 1:45 we were north bound on 35W ready to join a search team on the North Shore.
While driving Jason toggled restlessly between looking for Saunder on Find My Friends and calling his phone begging aloud for him to answer.
Finally a ping. Saunder’s location showed up on Jason’s phone and he sent the coordinates to the search team.
Our world spun wildly as we drove through the city. Moments felt like an eternity.
It was 2pm when we received the fateful call that would catapult us through space, free falling until our world crashed to the ground.
“We have found Saunder. Your son is deceased”
Jason brought the car to a full stop on the left shoulder of highway 35W. As cars raced past us my unbreakable husband shattered before me. Robbed of dreams, the rage and agony poured out and it was primal. His face inches from mine as he screamed and pounded on every surface. He raged for both us. He spoke for both of us saying all there was to say in the darkest moment of our lives in the deepest trenches of anguish. In a whisper, with a calmness I can’t understand, these words left my lips… “Have no regrets. We loved each other so well.”
Could these words not be my own? Was this my son speaking to me?
We turned the car around and texted Avery to come straight home after school. The same knowing that washed over me 2 hours before came over her and she walked out of school and arrived home just before 3pm. Our sweet girl collapsed — writhing and sobbing on the floor begging for us to tell her it wasn’t true. She coiled in our arms and cried uncontrollably and inconsolably. “He can’t leave me!”
I left Jason, Avery, and my parents with the impossible task of consoling each other while I convinced myself I could pick Asher up from school and not say a word until we were in the safety of our home.
More of the impossible.
Asher’s screams still ring in my ear.
“Leave us alone, God!”
“Why does everything bad happen to US!”
In that moment it was just more bad news for our family. The reality that it was his brother and it was permanent would hit later.
We packed our bags and set out for Two Harbors where Saunder’s Lutsen Resort family had secured rooms for us at Superior Shores Resort.
The car ride was silent.
Avery scrolled through photos.
Asher found quiet comfort in writing. He read aloud the poem he penned with words that captured his relationship with his brother perfectly.
We pulled over at a gas station off of 35N in Willow River for Jason to talk with the investigator. She had a soft, kind voice but her words landed like a sharp knife as we learned how inhuman and desensitized our world had become to a mother and father’s worst nightmare. It was explained that under the circumstances of Saunder’s death, since he didn’t pass in a hospital, we were not allowed to see him. Jason was told… “The bag is closed.” Did she really just say that?! By the time we would arrive in Two Harbors, where we planned to stay until we could accompany his body back to Minneapolis, he was already in transit to Anoka for an autopsy. All the systems were just conducting business now. We could work with a funeral home to arrange seeing our son. It was Friday. The funeral home had an opening on Wednesday. My heart seized; my breathing shallowed. How could it be that I could loose my son twice? First to a wild river and now to state officials? We were trapped in a dream - a nightmare we couldn’t wake up from.
Jason stood outside the car on the phone as he was cited the practices we had to abide by. Avery stood 20 feet front the car crying and Asher remained frozen in his seat. I moved between Avery and Asher until the gas station attendant called from the shop door to check on us. We looked the mess we were.
I walked toward her certain I could keep my composure in the presence of a stranger… the only person in the last 2 hours that I had no responsibility to. And that is precisely why I fell to pieces in her arms.