Wednesday, September 2, 2009


When I got the call, she was crying. I was afraid you were dead.

Not dead, but in jail. Arrested again. This time, you violated parole from your most recent arrest.

I felt nauseated. Sick. Sorry.
I didn't know what to say to her.
All I could say was "I'm sorry."
Mostly, I'm sorry for what it does to her.
And him.
I haven't understood the choices that you have made in your life for a very long time. I feel as if I don't know you any longer.
At one point in our lives, we didn't even need to communicate. We could just look at each other and know what the other was thinking. Now, I don't know what is inside of that head of yours.
I don't claim to understand, because I don't.
I don't even feel angry. What would that accomplish?
I think about you almost every day.
I think about the fact that you haven't been outside since the day you went in.
That alone would drive me mad.
Plus, the lack of privacy.
The fact that you can't use your phone,
get on the Internet,
pet your dog,
buy an ice-cream cone,
all things that I take for granted in my world.
While searching for an image for this post, I felt sicker and sadder just looking at photos of jail cells.
A cage.
A box.
Locked in.
I don't know how any human being could bear it.

I try to comfort her and say "at least it is just jail, and not prison."

I hope this "time out" has given you a chance to think.
To ponder upon the choices that have landed you in this predicament.
I've heard that you've said that you put yourself where you ended up and that you will have to start over.
I hope you can.
I wonder how you will get a job. Or, what kind of job you could get.
I am so sorry.
But, I will not enable you.
You must be responsible for your own actions.
The last time I tried to talk to you about the problems I though you had, the help I felt you should seek- you told me you didn't have a problem, that you had everything "under control."
It seems the one thing you have lost for certain is control.
Now, in your cell, in that building, you have no control over anything.
You wait for their mercy.
You wait for a hearing.
You hope for a plea bargain.
I pray that you will get help.
That you will seek counsel.
That you would grow up at long last.
You have such potential. You always have had such potential.
Do you know at one point in my life I had such admiration for you that I wanted to name my son for you?

I think about you every day.
And I pray for you.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

This was very well written. I am sure that it was both difficult and therapeutic for you. I have no words about the situation except: I love you!

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