I had a really tough conversation with a close “homeboy” this past week that I just can’t seem to get out of my head. He is getting out in a week and we have been talking… basically for the past year… about what he plans to do… how he is going to re-connect with his daughter… start repairing their relationship one day at a time and how excited and grateful he is that he has the chance to get out and try to start rebuilding. His daughter was 12 years old when he started this journey and she is now in her mid-20’s so the hole that has been left in both of their lives due to his absence is certainly substantial but like all of us in here… our only option is to get out there and start working on mending our relationships.
Okay… so… I walk into his room early this past week and I can tell that something is bothering him. He is withdrawn and quiet… very different from his usual talkative and boisterous self. “What’s up man… you stressed about getting out or what’s going on?” I ask him. After a long moment of silence and a deep breathe… I can see that tears are starting to form in his eyes… “It’s been a really hard day”. “I totally get it man… we all think about the day coming for so long and then it actually gets here and it is scary. It’s totally understandable for you to be stressed and have all kinds of mixed emotions”… I tell him. “My daughter tried to commit suicide yesterday… I just heard from her mom and they are in the hospital. She was drinking and took a ton of Xanax and kept saying things about how she doesn’t understand why she wasn’t good enough for her Dad to stay out of prison. Why she wasn’t good enough for him to want to do the right thing and be there with her. Why she can’t just have a “normal” family like her friends. I just… I don’t know…” His voice breaks and he trails off….
I am standing there… absolutely floored… heartbroken for him… heartbroken for his daughter… heartbroken for all the sons and daughters out there that must feel this same exact “why” because their Dad is here and they are there. I tell him that I am so sorry and sit in his room with him and just let him talk… give him the space to say whatever he needs to say… and just listen. Because what else can I do?
We have talked every day since and it doesn’t get easier for him… how could it? His daughter is going to be okay (thankfully) but the first thing she said in the hospital when she woke up is… “Tell me that my Dad isn’t here… I don’t want him to see me like this…” Shame… embarrassment… those are the first emotions that she felt after waking up from this horrific experience. It just breaks my heart. How do we as parents help our kids when we made decisions that put us behind these walls and away from them? How do we let them know that it isn’t their fault… that they are enough and worth everything this world has to offer and it wasn’t anything that they did or could have done that got us here… how do we help them understand these things?
I think this overall situation spotlights an element of incarceration that is overlooked at times. We all focus so much energy on getting through the sentence… “making it to the gate”… that we don’t pay enough attention to nurturing our relationships and healing the wounds of our loved ones throughout the journey. This lack of attention leads to a whole separate “incarceration” on the other side of the gate. A “sentence” that forces us to face the damage that we have caused by being away from the ones that matter most to us because we have been hiding from this reality by tell ourselves that we are serving our time… we are being punished and that punishment should be enough for everyone to forgive us. This is simply not the case and we cannot allow ourselves to think this way. If we do not put in the effort… the care… the empathy… the vulnerability that is necessary to allow for healing… both personally and for our loved ones throughout this journey… we are walking out these gates into a new world… one that is filled with pain that has been building year after year while we were inside.
This past week has been yet another lesson… an extremely painful one… reminding me that there is work to be done and I must never forget that. I have caused damage prior to walking into this compound… I must continuously work on healing those wounds. But I am also currently causing damage by physically being on this compound and not being there and with and for my boys… my family… my friends.. and I must never forget that I must work to heal these “new” wounds throughout this journey as well. There are such deep consequences for my actions that led me (and us) here… sometimes that is forgotten within the daily grind of life behind these walls but I will not allow myself to forget… not for one day of this journey from here on out. Because you never know when there may not be another day and I will be damned if every single person that I love does not know for certain that I am so deeply sorry for the pain that I have caused and continue to cause until we can be together on the other side of this thing. All of us behind these walls must understand that while serving our sentence is a part of the healing process for the harm that we have caused… it is not an all encompassing forgiveness pass… our “debt to society” may be paid by this time but our loved ones need and deserve much more than the prison sentence imposed on us by a judge.
Stay Healthy. Stay Active. Don’t hide from the pain… work through it.