Today, I received mail from my son and several other incarcerated peeps. Do you know what love does? Love creates a safe place for someone to share his heart, to share her dreams, to want to be better, to want to give back.
One of my guys grew up in a dysfunctional family. His mom is a drug addict. He’s doing time for stealing because he was hungry and did not have a place to live.
He told me in his last letter he would rather starve to death than steal and end up in the brutal prison he now finds himself.
I send him books and stamps. I put money on his commissary when his toiletries run low. He doesn’t ask me for anything; but, he is certainly very grateful when he receives things from me.
He calls me mom. He is a precious young man.
Joe sent me a thank you card for the guitar tabs book I sent to him. We were afraid he wouldn’t receive it because of the freaking idiotic rules some of these prisons have.
For example, a white envelope filled with info for Matt was returned to me because I used a purple magic marker instead of blue or black. It was deep purple not the light flowery sniffy kind of goofy markers out there. This was a respectable purple colour.
I told Matt angrily, what a terrible person I am for choosing the dreaded purple marker. I should be tarred, feathered and run out on a rail with purple markers sticking out of every orifice.
He laughed so hard, I thought he’d pass out. It was worth the sarcastic rant.
My precious people have to deal with clowns and rules connived in fits where there are lapses of sanity.
Do you think I could beat some of these people? With purple markers?
I guess not. I have to be loving; but some days it’s damn hard. You know?
Peace sweet friends.💞