I stand back… as does everyone else in the room because it is impossible not to notice… and give him some space to let him go through whatever is happening on the other side of that phone. Eventually he lets the phone go… just drop from his ear… hanging from the phone itself… and he releases his body to completely melt into the wall next to him. I slowly approach him and kneel down to get eye level. He looks at me and I immediately feel the tears forming in my eyes… the pain that I saw in this man’s face… into his soul… was haunting and heartbreaking. I offered him my hand and helped him stand and as he got to his feet… he said the words that haunts my nightmares (all of our nightmares) and is difficult for me to even write… “My son. My son.” I knew without him saying it…
His son had passed away unexpectedly earlier that day and he just found out the news from his Mom. This… beyond everything else… is the hands down most horrible thing that can happen to an incarcerated person. It is the unspoken fear behind these gates… the “please god just don’t let that happen” prayer that we all say… and seeing it happen for the first time to one of the guys in here is something that I will never be able to completely get over. I am in no way discounting the heartbreak and devastation of losing a loved one… let alone a child… in the free world but there is something uniquely horrible about losing a loved one and being completely and utterly helpless in here.
I walked him back to his room and stayed with him for a bit just so that he wouldn’t be alone. Through heavy tears he just kept saying… “His daughter. My grand daughter. My son”… and then broke down beyond understanding. I could tell he wanted to be by himself so I left and walked into the hallway feeling a selfish longing for my boys beyond anything that I could begin to describe.
Life is unbelievably difficult. We are faced with challenges every single day that test our willpower… our character… our determination to keep living… day in and day out… but tragedies such as the one that my “homeboy” experienced this past week is unbelievably crushing. He will now start his journey of working within the figurative “handcuffs” of the system to try to be as present as possible for his son’s burial service and everything that happens next. It is a horrible paperwork heavy process that usually has the person bouncing back and forth between his unit team and the chaplain for the coming days (at best) before someone finally decides to take action and treat the grieving person like the human being that he is and not the number on his chest.
I speak for every single Dad behind these gates…. we are petrified to the center of our being to ever make a call to a loved one that becomes “that” call from that day forward… standing in the lobby of a prison housing unit surrounded by strangers. It was unimaginable until I saw it unfold with my own eyes.
Please cherish your tribe out there… hug them… kiss them… play with them… listen to their stories… let them make a mess… read to them… sing… have dance parties… watch movies… sit with them while they are doing their homework… rehearse their lines for that play coming up… go outside and shoot baskets… be patient… have grace… learn from each other… stand up for them… be present without distraction… love them out loud… because we just never know.
If there is one positive that has come from this horrible experience of prison… it is that I will never taking one second for granted with my boys… not one.
Stay Healthy. Stay Active. We are lucky to be here… cherish it.
