Prison walls are gray with reiterated hope and are repeated with melancholy denial and

acceptance

The physical restrictions of prison aren't the most burdensome aspects of doing time. The
emotional trauma is the most difficult element of confinement. Physical constraints such
as: lack of privacy, lack of space, inmate space trespassed upon (body-searches), not
being able to go and come as you like, etc. These physical limitations hurt, but they
remind an individual that he is human and alive. Often I use the physical pain to realize
and or to awaken feeling, such as working-out to the point of exhaustion and pain.
Letting myself know that I am still breathing and can still feel.

You recover from physical exertion rather quickly, but emotional travail can take some
time: loss of a loved one, hardships of loved ones, psychological mind-games with
correctional staff and inmates, and/or the effort to maintain the mask curtain that you
wear to survive this psychological desert. All that being said and explained, I hope that
the one day (6/22/15), that stands out more than any other day in prison for me, can be
understood. I lost the one person that loved me unconditionally, that was an advocate,
that was a protective lioness, and that continued to be proud of 'her son' to the end.

I was calling home to talk with my mother (my sunshine), like I did every week-or-so. It
should be noted that she had been sick for some time. Just a couple weeks before her
death, I had to talk her out of coming to visit me. Talking her out of visiting was one of
the hardest things, because she was a woman that once she made her mind-up usually
only an act of God would change her mind. It reminds me of one other time I tried to talk
her out of visiting. I was in Soledad State Prison and at that time she wasn't doing so
good physically: 'I don't want you to travel all this way up here." She responded, "First of
all mister, it's not for you, it's for me -- I need to see my son!" That was the end of that
discussion.

Anyway, back to the call. When my sister answered the phone with a very sad inflection,
I knew something was up. You must understand that I would always make sure my tone
on the phone would be up-beat because I didn't want to transfer my travail(s) to them.

She said; "You don't know yet do you? I have been calling your counselor for the last
five days! No one has told you that mom passed away five days ago?" I was shocked
speechless. To this day I am still emotionally recovering from my mother's passing and
the callousness of another human being not caring enough to inform another of a loved
one's passing. Yet I keep my head held high and keep moving forward.