Soul of a Mother
A Mother's Hug It's been 4 months since you have seen you son and he's seen you. You've talked numerous time's over the telephone and you've exchanged photo's back and forth. Finally he call's and hear's what he's wanted to hear for month's... "Yep! I'm coming to see you! With anticipation, you arrived at the prison, entered into the large reception area to stand at the end of the long line that look's as though it goe's on for miles. Finally you're next to enter into a small closed room for an unwelcoming physical search down. That's over, you quickly grab your key's and roll's of quater's which is all you're allowed to bring in and you hurry down the mile long hallway and enter into a large area with old tables,and chair's. Over to the left side of the room stand's about seven vending machine's that carry's from sandwiches to chip's,candy and soda's. You grab the nearest table to the door that where all visitor's eye's are on watching for your precious son's face' in this small square window that they stop in. As you look with fixed eye's on him , you anixously stand up smiling when your heart speaks loud enough to hear,"there's my little boy"!. He stand's still watching your every move, waiting for the guard to tell him he can go, then he calmly but anxiously break's toward you as though it was his last chance to see you. You both walk toward each other quickly and finally...you rap your arm's around him and he pull's you close to him and his head drop's on your shoulder with his face buried in your chest. Humility breaks in his stance as you feel his heart's every beat and a silent cry that pour's from his soul that say's "ma, don't let me go"! One of the most important treasure's of the visit to your son is ..."A Mother's Hug"!TOP A Mother's Letters My mind has been on my son all day until finally at the end of the day after a nice warm shower, I grab my tablet and pen, a few picture's, jump in the middle of my bed, position myself comfortably against my pillows, then I began to write my son. I pour out my heart from my soul on paper. I'm telling him things that's happened in the course of the week that I know he would want to hear, not wanting him to miss even the smallest little detail's of a family event. How his sister acted, what she wore that day, etc. I would tell him things to exercise his imagination and of course a few silly joke's to make him laugh. Every detail count's and must strategically put together so he won't miss anything. I begin to tell him how proud I am of him because he's doing so well in taking good care of himself, followed by giving him hope and reminding him to focus on the light at the end of the tunnel. The final closing statement's, the prayer written that he should say to the Lord before he goes to bed along with a couple of encouraging scripture's and where to find those scriptures. I also always remind him that God still love's much even as much as I do. After all the xxx's and ooo's (hug's and kisses), I slide a picture or two between the letter with the funny saying's on the back of it. I don't forget to spray a little of mama's scent (perfume) on the letter that I know he need's to smell, then closing the letter with a smiley face on the back of the envelope. One more letter that's different from the other's full of unconditional love for my son. I never used the opportunity of reminding him why he's in prison in the first place or sending him a letter of condemnation, why should I? What's more safe and secure, full of hope, joy, peace, laughter and love then A Mother's Letter's?TOP A Mother's Prayers A Mother's prayer for her son reach heaven as beams of light. Her prayers are pure, honest, heart filled, fervent, powerful, which form the depths of her soul. Our prayer's are meaningful, warm, passionate, desperate, pleading, cautious and every characteristic of a mother first, then a women concerning her son. Even in those speechless moments's, our heart speaks from our soul for us. Though we cannot find or even form the words, God already knows. Our prayers go deep to cover our son's in safety, with the word of God and drench them in his blood. Even down to his dreams of joy, hope, peace, and gladness. There's never an area that we don't touch to pray for our son. We help them by praying his request in agreement with him as well. What keep's them sane, hopeful, alive in spirit, strong, and human, not dreading to face another day is...A Mother's Prayer's. TOP A Mother's Disappointments So many time's in so many circumstances do we face disappointments during the incarceration of our son's. It's an emotional roller coaster. They face it before we face it, which mean's, their disappointment's are doubled ours because when they brake bad the news to us, there disappointment double's. After you've had so many, you think you would be immune to them, but you're not because of the hope that's still alive in you. If the hope were dead in you, it just wouldn't matter; therefore, disappointment would not exist. When a mother is disappointment, she has to reach deep down somewhere and pull out strength in order to overcome the disappointment. Disappointment comes from: A letter that didn't reach your son Something you sent him that was stolen from him When he's been denied parole and you know he has to stay confined for another whole year. When your hands are tied and you're told there's nothing anymore can do. The list goes on. As long as your son's incarcerated there's bound to be one disappointment after another. After so long, you discover the art in overcoming them, you become numb. TOP A Mother's Visits From the first visit to your last, they are all unique in their own ways. But the first visit is always the hardest because everything is still new which includes the environment that your sons in, a huge or medium size building that is probably a facility that seems like it's been standing forever in it's a place that definitely doe's not have a home sweet home or welcoming feeling to it. When you first lay your eyes on him in the uniforms (that doesn't fit) that they wear, you want to run to him, grab him and hold him as tight as you can and take him back home with you. "This isn't your home", you say within your mind but not to him. At that moment, he looks like your little boy. All of your inside screen 'give me my son back"!! But you pull strength from somewhere to keep a smile on your face, holding the tears back and repeatedly in your mind telling yourself, "I'm not going to cry, I'm not going to cry". You feel you have to be strong for him. He feels bad enough that he can't come home with you. Of course the shackles on his hands and feet just finished off ripping my heart apart. "Somebody help me"!!!! My interior is crushed severely and falling apart while my exterior's deceiving everyone around us. My heart breaks and wants to cry hard...loud, but instead the pressure of it all causes it to breaks in a million little pieces. After the initial shock, pain and heartbreak, then I start our visit. The guard tells us how much time we have to visit So during that time every now and then my son, and myself would discreetly on occasion glance up at the clock to see we only have 45 minutes left to visit. You're touching him periodically so you can remember what he feels like after you get home. All of this time during your, you're crying silently on the inside but no one knows but you. Before you know it, the time has come to end the visit. You hug him as much as you can, say your good-byes, and while you're walking away from each other, you're turning around and looking at him until you can't see him and he can't see you anymore...then you exhale. You are in your car driving away, your heart's continuing to break and you're feeling that you are leaving apart of your family behind as the building becomes smaller and smaller. I just want to go back and get him and bring him home. This is just one of many visits. TOP A Mother's Fears During my son's time in prison, the fear I experienced was measured on different levels and degrees. First of all, my fear started with his first jail encounter being there with adult men when he was only 18 years old. Of course we fear the worst in that aspect. He's young, he's handsome, he's medium frame. He goes into prison with sex offenders, rapist, men who has not been on the outside in years. Would they try to gain up on my son? Another aspect of fear is for his safety in terms of physical abuse such as fighting and being able to with stand the pressure of knowing one day he may have to in order to prove a point or stand his ground. He just came off the streets, which means he didn't spend hours in the day bodybuilding. Another fear is, will he have a roommate who has been able to keep his sanity during his time of confinement? Going before the parole board is a fear that reaches the depths of your soul. There are different aspects of fear that would cause you to inhale without exhaling, fear that activates anger, fear that brings you to tears- uncontrolled fear. You then find yourself blocking out these thoughts so you may be able to make it from one day to the next. There's a fear that only a mother has for her son when he's in a situation of incarceration.TOP A Mother's Love There is a certain kind of identified love that's deep down inside us that we don't know that's there until something negative happens to one of our children. It lie's dormant inside us. But when something happens, is activates itself and comes to the forefront of our heart. When you have a son in prison, no matter what age he is, no matter what circumstances brought him there, you have this love for him that you can't ignore even if you wanted to. A lot of things can change such as trust, happiness, etc., but loves does not change. Even is you try to bury it, it's still there. Love is and should be practiced unconditional meaning no matter what, you love your son. You can walk away from him, but you can't walk away from the love that's inside you for him. Love should always be expressed in different ways from a visit to a post card or even a smile. To say the words that express your love is always pleasing to the soul and makes them feel that they are worthy to be alive. Thank god for A Mothers LoveTOP A Mother's Courage Where does it come from? Some place inside. We need it, we must use it, we should rely on it, we walk in it and talk with it, it must be exercised, it has to come to the forefront when we need it, it should be expressed. We shouldn't let it hide on it's own, or tuck it away. We have to let it show itself; let it be known to others. It should make a statement loud and clear. It's very helpful when we need it. A Mother's courage is another aspect or expression that has to be used when our sons are in prison in order to help them in all areas of this kind of life on both sides, mother and sons. It takes courage to stand in court and watch your son being escorted out of the courtroom. It takes courage to see him in handcuffs and shackles and not cry until you get home. It takes courage to talk to him on the telephone with out breaking down screaming and crying. It take courage to talk to CEO's, wardens, members of the parole board, other people in high profile positions such as judges, district attorneys etc. It takes a lot of courage to even withstand this part of a mothers life, but even more, it takes courage to use courage.TOP A Mother's Voice In any giving situation, especially one such as this, there's no other person that will be there for you 110% but your mother. When people have turned their backs on you, walked away from you, the money runs out, no lawyers to hire, no one else shows up to stand in your corner, you know without a shadow of doubt, your mother's there for you. A voice in the wilderness, dependable, compassionate, strong, never ending for her child. Who will be his voice, the most effective voice. A voice pleading shamelessly. A voice that speaks for her son. A voice crying out in the middle of the night to god who listens intensely, "this is a mother's cry".TOP A Mother's Responsibility When you find your son in a situation such as this one, and he's in a very vulnerable position. It is your responsibility to see that he has support mentally, emotionally, and spiritually most and far most. Look around the room, everyone has left, there is no one but you. This is your son! We should not consider age, gender, circumstance, or expect for anyone else to step up to the plate. He is a part of us. He was our responsibility then when he could not take care of himself, and he's our responsibility now. Something inside us automatically steps into the role of caretaker. We step in front of the line ahead of everyone else. No other can do it like their mother. It's done with tender loving care. It's done to perfection and very carefully. We assume the responsibility because of our love.TOP A Mother's Dream So many times on a number of occasions you see freedom for your son. You see him walking thru the gates of the prison and you standing there waiting for him. Then the scene changes to him at home with all of his favorite foods on the dinner table and he's enjoying a good home cooked meal. That scene changes to him taking his first nice warm bath and laying down in a nice clean bed that you've made up perfect for him. A celebration of freedom is always in the back of your mind, what you're gonna do for him when he gets out and comes home. Such a warm welcome for him as though he's returning from a long fight in a military war. Why not celebrate, he finished the course, he survived, he passed the test, he made it! Mothers dream without a conscious effort. It's joy to your souls that enhances the hope we have in our hearts. It's good to dream.TOP A Mother's Release Day Freedom not only comes physically, but it originates from the heart. The anticipation of the release day for your son is also the release day for the mother. When your son goes into prison, you as his mother go in with him without even being aware of it until it's time for him to come out. There's tons of unexpected emotions that happens when it gets near the release day for your son. You have occupied for the duration of his time that small little corner within the spiritual walls of that prison. A small voice from above speaks to you near that time and tells you "you can come out now". Severe fear sets in and you find yourself glued to a placed that your hearts been in for the time he has been there. You fear you're leaving him! How can I come out and he's still there? The small voice speaks again..."you can come out now." the fear intensifys and you begin to cryin uncontrollably. Your inside screams... "I CANT' LEAVE HIM, I'M SCARED!" After forcefully shaking until your bones start to hurt, with a light that shines beside you, you step forward into the silhouette, and immediately, your son steps out behind you. Joy unspeakable! You're at the finish line on your mark waiting for the green light, then waiting for the gun to go off to fly. A mixture of emotions starts from joy to gladness to anticipation to fear to being elated to just plain ole crazy inside. You've been there for him every minute, everyday, even his day of release, you want to be there not realizing until it hits you that this is your release day too. Words will never be able to explain or capture that moment in your heart what you feel. You give up on trying to describe the feeling. You simply result to "just happy". Every minute is so special to you as well as him. All past events are just that, past events. They don't mean anything anymore. The pain leaves your eyes; the wisdom sets in along with experience. Now the dove inside you and the eagle inside him is released-----GO FLY!!!!!!TOP A Mother's Day In Court The first time I ever experienced screaming from the inside out. You're helpless. You've lost all control, the mercy lies on the court. But what can you do? This is the most helpless time you can experience. The Life of your child lays in someone else's hands, a total stranger. A person who has no knowledge of the heart of your son. It's like someone literally snatches a baby from your arms to do with him what they want to do with him. You can only scream from the inside out. Heart wrenching as it is, again, what can you do but beg for the mercy of the court. "Somebody's mercy, anybody's mercy"! Everyone in the courtroom are strangers. They only know the crime and the crime knows them. But everyone, this place, this dream, you are unfamiliar with. All of the decisions without my permission come through the court. What about my decision, my suggestion, my opinion or even my thoughts? This is my son! No body cares, nor do they want to hear them. All I want to do is take my boy home with me, but fate is not on my side this time. The worst day of my life was the day in court, because a part of me was taken away to a cold, unsafe, non-caring place of nowhere. Now my son is gone.TOP A Mother's Travel The road to your left is the road of sorrow and grief. The road that veers off to your right is the road of heartbreak and pain. The road that goes toward the north, is the road of fear, the road that goes south is the road of unfamiliar. All these roads curve, twist, and turn. They eventually end up merging into the one-way street that the mother travels during the entire time her son is in prison, which leads toward his heart. Roadblocks are in the millions all across these roads. Dead end streets are deceitful, because they are without warning. Where is the end of the road and when will I get there? The end is there but is it near? Is the end of the road bright or is it dim? Who will judge that? Some roads are under construction, they take forever. Some have detours, which brings on confusion. Some are full of red lights. No matter where you travel to, to see your son, believe that there is an end to those long roads. The road will end in this world but never in your heart. I traveled miles to visit my son and miles to be that voice on the outside for him, as well as support. You don't support the crime committed, you support the love for him. If I had to do it all over again, I would travel those same roads all over again. I would go down those same streets. It was the beginning of our destiny.TOP A Mother's Prison Within The Prison This is very hard to put into words. Trying to explain it seems almost impossible. Continuing to search for the correct nouns, verbs and adjectives to describe this topic is somewhat of a chore. Only a mother would relate to this. A mother's prison within the prison. It's in her mid, heart and soul. You're not free to love outwardly because of the mental and emotional confinement that you are in. It's almost like being put on hold and kept at bay. Wanting something with intensity but it's out of your reach. You struggle to become creative or ingressive, but you do learn to redirect your love to your son via paper, telephone calls, etc. Everything is limited: telephone calls, and visits, things that are allowed in the facility. Your son makes a shrine out of your car keys because that's the only thing he sees from the outside. Your mere existence has walls around it with limitations as well as time limits. One day it will all be over.TOP A Mother's Reward During the time of your son's incarceration, there are spots of sunlight, such as when he prioritizes his time between recreation and structural time. He decides on educating himself, which keeps his mind grounded. Then the accomplishments follow thereafter. You get a call from him one day with the 15 minute call that you try so hard to get in 3 to 4 topics at one time, he's excited because he completed and passed his GED exam and promises to send the certificate home to you. That's a "Moms proud moment". You never forget to say the words that he needs to hear," I'm so proud of you for the accomplishment you made, Good Job!" Those few simple words will ring in his ears until the next accomplishment is made. Then there is another call with the same excitement and enthusiasm, no more, no less. These are a mother's rewards though they're his achievements. Each one is just as valuable as the next. So you continue to wait for the next little spot of sunlight that moves to the end of the tunnel.TOP A Mother's Sorrow and Grief From the first time my son first stepped through another door that led to another life of darkness, was when I began to experience first hand the depths of sorrow and grief. It comes in different shades of color and intensifies as they step further and further away from the safety of a mothers arms. From their smallest stumbling blocks to the largest. The emotions are breaking your heart more and more. Once your child is out of your reach, they have no ideal of the intensity of our sufferings. A day of temporary mental relief comes and goes, but they are only few and in between. The pressure that weighs us down from the intense sorrow and grief is in the area of indescribable because of its depth and how it clinches our heart with a death grip. How can one heart, one body, and one soul endure so much? When it comes to our children, we are barely alive ourselves until this chapter of out life is closed forever.TOP A Mother's Wish Somebody pinch me so I can wake up from this bad dream! Why am I not waking up from a bad dream? I rub my eyes, look around my room to see familiar things around me, inhale and exhale and…"whew"! I'm so glad it was a dream and I'm awake, back in my bed again, back in my room. Then all of a sudden you get hit with this huge ball of pain, hurt and sorrow!!! Noooo! This is real! I'm not dreaming! Why can't this be a dream? This happens to other people, not me, not my children, not me! My firstborn is not the little boy I raised, he's become someone else. He's so different now. He's all of a sudden on his own agenda, his own mind that seems as though it's being driven by something unfamiliar. I wish peer pressure was none existent, negative outside influences, the wrong crowd, bad choices, the drug dealer standing on the corner flashing a wad of money in 20's with a rubber band around it, bright and shiny designer tennis shoe's, bragging about not having to work a 9-5, carrying a big bad looking Uzi stuck down in front of the drooping pants, and smoking a black-n-mild that may or may not be lit. I wish he were my little boy again.TOP A Mother's Protection As a small infant and well up into adulthood, we instantly guard our children, cover there eyes, turn them in another direction and even magnify what is true to make sure they are not blemished or contaminated with: gang violence predators (animals/humans) sickness disease accidents or injury abuse the unknown heartbreak death pain embarrassment earth' elements disasters danger The list goes on. As long as they are in our company or control, we are successful, but when they become of age to be on their own, our protection is then our fervent prayers by faith. Those prayers become more intense when they are facing troubles such as jail or prison time. This is when our faith in God definitely goes to another level. Now they are out of their, and our, comfort zone. I called huge warring angles from all four directions to stand guard on every corner to fight what comes toward my son. Heavenly angelic beings to be encamped around him even when he sleeps. You have no other choice but to switch from my protection, which is superficial, to God's protection. God's protection is mighty and powerful. Belief kicks in like never before, it has to. So.... there! He's covered in that area now...I can exhale, at least for now anyway.TOP A Mother's Journey The old cliché` says, "You follow your heart. In times such as these, you literally follow your heart because your son is your heart. For every mile that he traveled, as a mother, you were shoulder to shoulder with him. But your real journey begins when you distinguish your sons out cry from everyone else's cry. Ok! Pull your boot straps up, snap your suspenders, roll your sleeves up, turn your cap brim to the back, pack your tin lunch box because you're about to take a 8 year journey. You're not sure where it's going to take you, you just know you have to take it no matter where you have to go. Are you ready? Yes, then lets go...! The first year started off very unusual. Blind to the system but you know you gotta learn quickly. You got to suck up the tears, hit your chest, talk to yourself and say, ok...I can do this, I have to do this. No one else is willing to do it for me...and you dive into the unknown world of jail cells, huge unfriendly monstrous looking prisons, uncaring faces that don't smile, they don't care. You have to go through the motions like everyone else during your first visit with your son, because you are insignificant little dot in a large ugly world that you never experienced before. Week after week, month after month. It's like you are feeling your way around a dark room. This is a world within the world. At times, that world makes you feel like you are the accused. But what can you do, it's bigger then you? Just follow the rules. Six months has already flown by you, five and one half of those months, you spent crying while on your journey. You wonder will that ever stop. The pain is like a well that goes on forever and has no bottom. Are there any tears left? You cry again, there's just as many tears as it was the very first time you cried. All these tears come from deep pain and unbearable hurt. Some days you're exhausted from crying. It starts to show up on your face with the puffiness around your eyes and the fatigue from loss of sleep. The next six months, you learn how to rest from it all and take breaks. But he continues to call you. In between the phone calls, you take advantage of that time and find relief but try not to feel guilty about it. A year has passed by, that was the hardest thing I've ever done. Now you've mastered the visits along with occasional bouts of escaping from it all without the guilt. You have done the first year with your son. The initial shock is over. Crying is now to a minimum of once a week. You feel ok with talking to him on the telephone once a week on the weekend. He sounding a little more secure though you still feel him reaching out to you, but you're stronger.... somewhat. This is the ending of the beginning of your journey. What's next? How will my son and I survive the next year of this journey? Eight and a half years have passed by. I finally crossed over the finish line with my son. It was indeed a life's experience. Only four years later is when I'm able to talk about it and share it with you. TOP A Mother's Pain Statistics says in terms of physical pain (some years ago), on the scale of 1-10, 10 is labor pain and men faint at 7. Whether this is fact or not, this describes physical pain in a type of measurement. But a mother's pain cannot be measured on a scale or even by statistics, nor is this comparing men with women. The only one who can describe a mother's pain is a mother who has gone through or is presently going through a type of tragedy with her child. How can we help this mother in this pain? What can we do to take it away or stop it, help to ease the pain, etc? You can't, there is nothing on "this earth" to help a mother in pain but a Higher Power who brings healing to the pain that's embedded in her heart. The pain does subside through healing. It does and will leave you to only leave a scar, a memory. TOP A Mother's Heart The contents of all mothers heart 80% love 20% tough love A "mother's" heart is especially designed for her children. With others, we guard and protect our heart, but with our children who we love, our heart is wide open to them, which causes it to easily be broken by them. That's when the 20% comes in handy. Though there are times, or should I calculate many times, that we do not exercise the 20% when we should while it leads to disappointments, hurt, and pain, our hearts are not designed to handle when your child commits a crime and is incarcerated. That was not in the equation. That's why it's so devastating and overwhelming when this unfortunate disaster takes place. It feels as though someone rips your heart out, throws it down and crushes it with their foot. How painful is that? TOP A Mother's Cry It is written that certain angels in heaven collect the tears of Gods people in a bottle and store the bottles in an appointed place to keep. There has to be a separate room for the tears of a mother to be stored. My imagination would tell me that there is, only God knows. There is crying, weeping, and sobbing that comes from deep inside the heart and soul. The initial impact of our sons being snatched away from our hearts causes the sobbing. The sobbing goes on for a while, then turns to weeping, which is the reaction from pain. Throughout the painful months and years is the crying from a broken heart as well as from fear. The light at the end of the tunnel is when it all stops, and it does. TOP A Mother's Survival From the very beginning of the series of events that took place with the incarceration of your son until the end, you wonder how you made it through. Now looking back 4 years later with my experience, it took a lot of prayer, reconditioning my mind not to think of the worst, finding humor at the most convenient times. At times, struggling to keep a positive outlook on things as well as the future, and the list goes on was I must say, my biggest challenge. If you know that the light at the end of the tunnel does exsist, you find ways of surviving the whole ordeal. Reaching deep within yourself for strength that you didn't know you had and on top of pulling from others strength during your weakness also helps us.Physically draining your mind as well as your body after crying for days, hours,and months, and wondering where all the tears are coming from makes you feel as though you cannot face another day because you know this is what you will automatically do for that day. There is a mountain of excruciating pain that we must overcome, once you reach the top of that mountain of pain, you turn around and look down into the valley you came out of, and you realize it was quite a distance from the bottom to the top. At the top of the mountain you notice you've inquired more wisdom, knowledge, strength, courage and patience. That mountain does really exists in our minds. How did I survive? I never stop climbing that mountain until I reached the top, And I Did Reach The Top! TOP A Mother's Anger I once heard that anger was fear turned inside out. Let's take a few minutes to think about that and evaluate it. The definition of anger from Webster's dictionary says: anger means hot displeasure, often because of opposition, a hurt. A mother's anger is when it comes to her children is emotionally uncontrolled within the depths of her soul. In this case when we experience the unfairness of the justice system, or after pleading with a judge for mercy for our son, and we are not heard, betrayed, disappointed or just plain ole let down. The anger takes center stage of our minds. But what can we do? we are helpless so we just cry, cry, cry. In combination with anger and heartbreak, it intensifies the pain and the hurt. In the meantime, we slowly sink into depression and close ourselves off to the world only communicating when we have to. At the end of the day, all you want is your son. Your heart longs for him day and night. If we could stand outside the tall bob wire fence and yell to our sons, "Mommies' here", we would do it day and night, but in reality we can't come to their aid we can only hope and dream that they will walk through the gate with us standing on the other side of it. Now that the anger has calmed down, our eyes are puffy and red, we are exhausted from crying, the hurt and pain grips our heart even more, we just sit there and stare until the next episode of anger occurs...and it will. All the time if we could stand before the courts, prison guards, etc. We would say, "whatever you do, don't mess with my child" (and mean it)! A mother's anger is just what it is, a mother's anger. TOP Board of Advisors DOWNLOAD The Mothers With Sons In Prison Community Development Package Inspirational Corner: Join us on the Message Board and share your stories.
It's been 4 months since you have seen you son and he's seen you. You've talked numerous time's over the telephone and you've exchanged photo's back and forth. Finally he call's and hear's what he's wanted to hear for month's... "Yep! I'm coming to see you!
With anticipation, you arrived at the prison, entered into the large reception area to stand at the end of the long line that look's as though it goe's on for miles. Finally you're next to enter into a small closed room for an unwelcoming physical search down.
That's over, you quickly grab your key's and roll's of quater's which is all you're allowed to bring in and you hurry down the mile long hallway and enter into a large area with old tables,and chair's. Over to the left side of the room stand's about seven vending machine's that carry's from sandwiches to chip's,candy and soda's.
You grab the nearest table to the door that where all visitor's eye's are on watching for your precious son's face' in this small square window that they stop in. As you look with fixed eye's on him , you anixously stand up smiling when your heart speaks loud enough to hear,"there's my little boy"!.
He stand's still watching your every move, waiting for the guard to tell him he can go, then he calmly but anxiously break's toward you as though it was his last chance to see you. You both walk toward each other quickly and finally...you rap your arm's around him and he pull's you close to him and his head drop's on your shoulder with his face buried in your chest.
Humility breaks in his stance as you feel his heart's every beat and a silent cry that pour's from his soul that say's "ma, don't let me go"! One of the most important treasure's of the visit to your son is ..."A Mother's Hug"!
TOP
A Mother's Letters
My mind has been on my son all day until finally at the end of the day after a nice warm shower, I grab my tablet and pen, a few picture's, jump in the middle of my bed, position myself comfortably against my pillows, then I began to write my son.
I pour out my heart from my soul on paper. I'm telling him things that's happened in the course of the week that I know he would want to hear, not wanting him to miss even the smallest little detail's of a family event. How his sister acted, what she wore that day, etc. I would tell him things to exercise his imagination and of course a few silly joke's to make him laugh. Every detail count's and must strategically put together so he won't miss anything.
I begin to tell him how proud I am of him because he's doing so well in taking good care of himself, followed by giving him hope and reminding him to focus on the light at the end of the tunnel.
The final closing statement's, the prayer written that he should say to the Lord before he goes to bed along with a couple of encouraging scripture's and where to find those scriptures. I also always remind him that God still love's much even as much as I do. After all the xxx's and ooo's (hug's and kisses), I slide a picture or two between the letter with the funny saying's on the back of it. I don't forget to spray a little of mama's scent (perfume) on the letter that I know he need's to smell, then closing the letter with a smiley face on the back of the envelope.
One more letter that's different from the other's full of unconditional love for my son. I never used the opportunity of reminding him why he's in prison in the first place or sending him a letter of condemnation, why should I? What's more safe and secure, full of hope, joy, peace, laughter and love then A Mother's Letter's?
A Mother's Prayers
A Mother's prayer for her son reach heaven as beams of light. Her prayers are pure, honest, heart filled, fervent, powerful, which form the depths of her soul. Our prayer's are meaningful, warm, passionate, desperate, pleading, cautious and every characteristic of a mother first, then a women concerning her son. Even in those speechless moments's, our heart speaks from our soul for us. Though we cannot find or even form the words, God already knows.
Our prayers go deep to cover our son's in safety, with the word of God and drench them in his blood. Even down to his dreams of joy, hope, peace, and gladness. There's never an area that we don't touch to pray for our son.
We help them by praying his request in agreement with him as well. What keep's them sane, hopeful, alive in spirit, strong, and human, not dreading to face another day is...A Mother's Prayer's.
A Mother's Disappointments
So many time's in so many circumstances do we face disappointments during the incarceration of our son's. It's an emotional roller coaster. They face it before we face it, which mean's, their disappointment's are doubled ours because when they brake bad the news to us, there disappointment double's.
After you've had so many, you think you would be immune to them, but you're not because of the hope that's still alive in you. If the hope were dead in you, it just wouldn't matter; therefore, disappointment would not exist.
When a mother is disappointment, she has to reach deep down somewhere and pull out strength in order to overcome the disappointment.
Disappointment comes from: A letter that didn't reach your son Something you sent him that was stolen from him When he's been denied parole and you know he has to stay confined for another whole year. When your hands are tied and you're told there's nothing anymore can do.
The list goes on. As long as your son's incarcerated there's bound to be one disappointment after another. After so long, you discover the art in overcoming them, you become numb.
A Mother's Visits
From the first visit to your last, they are all unique in their own ways. But the first visit is always the hardest because everything is still new which includes the environment that your sons in, a huge or medium size building that is probably a facility that seems like it's been standing forever in it's a place that definitely doe's not have a home sweet home or welcoming feeling to it.
When you first lay your eyes on him in the uniforms (that doesn't fit) that they wear, you want to run to him, grab him and hold him as tight as you can and take him back home with you. "This isn't your home", you say within your mind but not to him. At that moment, he looks like your little boy. All of your inside screen 'give me my son back"!! But you pull strength from somewhere to keep a smile on your face, holding the tears back and repeatedly in your mind telling yourself, "I'm not going to cry, I'm not going to cry".
You feel you have to be strong for him. He feels bad enough that he can't come home with you. Of course the shackles on his hands and feet just finished off ripping my heart apart. "Somebody help me"!!!! My interior is crushed severely and falling apart while my exterior's deceiving everyone around us. My heart breaks and wants to cry hard...loud, but instead the pressure of it all causes it to breaks in a million little pieces. After the initial shock, pain and heartbreak, then I start our visit.
The guard tells us how much time we have to visit So during that time every now and then my son, and myself would discreetly on occasion glance up at the clock to see we only have 45 minutes left to visit. You're touching him periodically so you can remember what he feels like after you get home.
All of this time during your, you're crying silently on the inside but no one knows but you. Before you know it, the time has come to end the visit. You hug him as much as you can, say your good-byes, and while you're walking away from each other, you're turning around and looking at him until you can't see him and he can't see you anymore...then you exhale.
You are in your car driving away, your heart's continuing to break and you're feeling that you are leaving apart of your family behind as the building becomes smaller and smaller. I just want to go back and get him and bring him home. This is just one of many visits.
A Mother's Fears
During my son's time in prison, the fear I experienced was measured on different levels and degrees. First of all, my fear started with his first jail encounter being there with adult men when he was only 18 years old. Of course we fear the worst in that aspect.
He's young, he's handsome, he's medium frame. He goes into prison with sex offenders, rapist, men who has not been on the outside in years. Would they try to gain up on my son? Another aspect of fear is for his safety in terms of physical abuse such as fighting and being able to with stand the pressure of knowing one day he may have to in order to prove a point or stand his ground. He just came off the streets, which means he didn't spend hours in the day bodybuilding.
Another fear is, will he have a roommate who has been able to keep his sanity during his time of confinement?
Going before the parole board is a fear that reaches the depths of your soul. There are different aspects of fear that would cause you to inhale without exhaling, fear that activates anger, fear that brings you to tears- uncontrolled fear. You then find yourself blocking out these thoughts so you may be able to make it from one day to the next.
There's a fear that only a mother has for her son when he's in a situation of incarceration.
A Mother's Love
There is a certain kind of identified love that's deep down inside us that we don't know that's there until something negative happens to one of our children. It lie's dormant inside us. But when something happens, is activates itself and comes to the forefront of our heart.
When you have a son in prison, no matter what age he is, no matter what circumstances brought him there, you have this love for him that you can't ignore even if you wanted to. A lot of things can change such as trust, happiness, etc., but loves does not change. Even is you try to bury it, it's still there.
Love is and should be practiced unconditional meaning no matter what, you love your son. You can walk away from him, but you can't walk away from the love that's inside you for him.
Love should always be expressed in different ways from a visit to a post card or even a smile. To say the words that express your love is always pleasing to the soul and makes them feel that they are worthy to be alive.
Thank god for A Mothers Love
A Mother's Courage
Where does it come from? Some place inside. We need it, we must use it, we should rely on it, we walk in it and talk with it, it must be exercised, it has to come to the forefront when we need it, it should be expressed. We shouldn't let it hide on it's own, or tuck it away. We have to let it show itself; let it be known to others. It should make a statement loud and clear. It's very helpful when we need it.
A Mother's courage is another aspect or expression that has to be used when our sons are in prison in order to help them in all areas of this kind of life on both sides, mother and sons.
It takes courage to stand in court and watch your son being escorted out of the courtroom. It takes courage to see him in handcuffs and shackles and not cry until you get home. It takes courage to talk to him on the telephone with out breaking down screaming and crying. It take courage to talk to CEO's, wardens, members of the parole board, other people in high profile positions such as judges, district attorneys etc. It takes a lot of courage to even withstand this part of a mothers life, but even more, it takes courage to use courage.
A Mother's Voice
In any giving situation, especially one such as this, there's no other person that will be there for you 110% but your mother. When people have turned their backs on you, walked away from you, the money runs out, no lawyers to hire, no one else shows up to stand in your corner, you know without a shadow of doubt, your mother's there for you.
A voice in the wilderness, dependable, compassionate, strong, never ending for her child. Who will be his voice, the most effective voice. A voice pleading shamelessly. A voice that speaks for her son. A voice crying out in the middle of the night to god who listens intensely, "this is a mother's cry".
A Mother's Responsibility
When you find your son in a situation such as this one, and he's in a very vulnerable position. It is your responsibility to see that he has support mentally, emotionally, and spiritually most and far most. Look around the room, everyone has left, there is no one but you. This is your son!
We should not consider age, gender, circumstance, or expect for anyone else to step up to the plate. He is a part of us. He was our responsibility then when he could not take care of himself, and he's our responsibility now.
Something inside us automatically steps into the role of caretaker. We step in front of the line ahead of everyone else. No other can do it like their mother. It's done with tender loving care. It's done to perfection and very carefully. We assume the responsibility because of our love.
A Mother's Dream
So many times on a number of occasions you see freedom for your son. You see him walking thru the gates of the prison and you standing there waiting for him. Then the scene changes to him at home with all of his favorite foods on the dinner table and he's enjoying a good home cooked meal.
That scene changes to him taking his first nice warm bath and laying down in a nice clean bed that you've made up perfect for him.
A celebration of freedom is always in the back of your mind, what you're gonna do for him when he gets out and comes home. Such a warm welcome for him as though he's returning from a long fight in a military war. Why not celebrate, he finished the course, he survived, he passed the test, he made it!
Mothers dream without a conscious effort. It's joy to your souls that enhances the hope we have in our hearts. It's good to dream.
A Mother's Release Day
Freedom not only comes physically, but it originates from the heart. The anticipation of the release day for your son is also the release day for the mother. When your son goes into prison, you as his mother go in with him without even being aware of it until it's time for him to come out.
There's tons of unexpected emotions that happens when it gets near the release day for your son. You have occupied for the duration of his time that small little corner within the spiritual walls of that prison. A small voice from above speaks to you near that time and tells you "you can come out now".
Severe fear sets in and you find yourself glued to a placed that your hearts been in for the time he has been there. You fear you're leaving him! How can I come out and he's still there? The small voice speaks again..."you can come out now." the fear intensifys and you begin to cryin uncontrollably. Your inside screams... "I CANT' LEAVE HIM, I'M SCARED!" After forcefully shaking until your bones start to hurt, with a light that shines beside you, you step forward into the silhouette, and immediately, your son steps out behind you.
Joy unspeakable! You're at the finish line on your mark waiting for the green light, then waiting for the gun to go off to fly. A mixture of emotions starts from joy to gladness to anticipation to fear to being elated to just plain ole crazy inside.
You've been there for him every minute, everyday, even his day of release, you want to be there not realizing until it hits you that this is your release day too. Words will never be able to explain or capture that moment in your heart what you feel. You give up on trying to describe the feeling. You simply result to "just happy". Every minute is so special to you as well as him. All past events are just that, past events. They don't mean anything anymore.
The pain leaves your eyes; the wisdom sets in along with experience. Now the dove inside you and the eagle inside him is released-----GO FLY!!!!!!
A Mother's Day In Court
The first time I ever experienced screaming from the inside out. You're helpless. You've lost all control, the mercy lies on the court. But what can you do? This is the most helpless time you can experience. The Life of your child lays in someone else's hands, a total stranger. A person who has no knowledge of the heart of your son. It's like someone literally snatches a baby from your arms to do with him what they want to do with him. You can only scream from the inside out. Heart wrenching as it is, again, what can you do but beg for the mercy of the court. "Somebody's mercy, anybody's mercy"!
Everyone in the courtroom are strangers. They only know the crime and the crime knows them. But everyone, this place, this dream, you are unfamiliar with. All of the decisions without my permission come through the court.
What about my decision, my suggestion, my opinion or even my thoughts? This is my son! No body cares, nor do they want to hear them. All I want to do is take my boy home with me, but fate is not on my side this time. The worst day of my life was the day in court, because a part of me was taken away to a cold, unsafe, non-caring place of nowhere. Now my son is gone.
A Mother's Travel
The road to your left is the road of sorrow and grief. The road that veers off to your right is the road of heartbreak and pain. The road that goes toward the north, is the road of fear, the road that goes south is the road of unfamiliar. All these roads curve, twist, and turn.
They eventually end up merging into the one-way street that the mother travels during the entire time her son is in prison, which leads toward his heart. Roadblocks are in the millions all across these roads. Dead end streets are deceitful, because they are without warning. Where is the end of the road and when will I get there?
The end is there but is it near? Is the end of the road bright or is it dim? Who will judge that? Some roads are under construction, they take forever. Some have detours, which brings on confusion. Some are full of red lights. No matter where you travel to, to see your son, believe that there is an end to those long roads. The road will end in this world but never in your heart.
I traveled miles to visit my son and miles to be that voice on the outside for him, as well as support. You don't support the crime committed, you support the love for him. If I had to do it all over again, I would travel those same roads all over again. I would go down those same streets. It was the beginning of our destiny.
A Mother's Prison Within The Prison
This is very hard to put into words. Trying to explain it seems almost impossible. Continuing to search for the correct nouns, verbs and adjectives to describe this topic is somewhat of a chore. Only a mother would relate to this.
A mother's prison within the prison. It's in her mid, heart and soul. You're not free to love outwardly because of the mental and emotional confinement that you are in. It's almost like being put on hold and kept at bay. Wanting something with intensity but it's out of your reach. You struggle to become creative or ingressive, but you do learn to redirect your love to your son via paper, telephone calls, etc.
Everything is limited: telephone calls, and visits, things that are allowed in the facility. Your son makes a shrine out of your car keys because that's the only thing he sees from the outside. Your mere existence has walls around it with limitations as well as time limits.
One day it will all be over.
A Mother's Reward
During the time of your son's incarceration, there are spots of sunlight, such as when he prioritizes his time between recreation and structural time. He decides on educating himself, which keeps his mind grounded. Then the accomplishments follow thereafter.
You get a call from him one day with the 15 minute call that you try so hard to get in 3 to 4 topics at one time, he's excited because he completed and passed his GED exam and promises to send the certificate home to you. That's a "Moms proud moment". You never forget to say the words that he needs to hear," I'm so proud of you for the accomplishment you made, Good Job!"
Those few simple words will ring in his ears until the next accomplishment is made. Then there is another call with the same excitement and enthusiasm, no more, no less. These are a mother's rewards though they're his achievements. Each one is just as valuable as the next. So you continue to wait for the next little spot of sunlight that moves to the end of the tunnel.
A Mother's Sorrow and Grief
From the first time my son first stepped through another door that led to another life of darkness, was when I began to experience first hand the depths of sorrow and grief. It comes in different shades of color and intensifies as they step further and further away from the safety of a mothers arms.
From their smallest stumbling blocks to the largest. The emotions are breaking your heart more and more. Once your child is out of your reach, they have no ideal of the intensity of our sufferings.
A day of temporary mental relief comes and goes, but they are only few and in between. The pressure that weighs us down from the intense sorrow and grief is in the area of indescribable because of its depth and how it clinches our heart with a death grip.
How can one heart, one body, and one soul endure so much? When it comes to our children, we are barely alive ourselves until this chapter of out life is closed forever.
A Mother's Wish
Somebody pinch me so I can wake up from this bad dream! Why am I not waking up from a bad dream? I rub my eyes, look around my room to see familiar things around me, inhale and exhale and…"whew"! I'm so glad it was a dream and I'm awake, back in my bed again, back in my room.
Then all of a sudden you get hit with this huge ball of pain, hurt and sorrow!!! Noooo! This is real! I'm not dreaming! Why can't this be a dream? This happens to other people, not me, not my children, not me!
My firstborn is not the little boy I raised, he's become someone else. He's so different now. He's all of a sudden on his own agenda, his own mind that seems as though it's being driven by something unfamiliar.
I wish peer pressure was none existent, negative outside influences, the wrong crowd, bad choices, the drug dealer standing on the corner flashing a wad of money in 20's with a rubber band around it, bright and shiny designer tennis shoe's, bragging about not having to work a 9-5, carrying a big bad looking Uzi stuck down in front of the drooping pants, and smoking a black-n-mild that may or may not be lit.
I wish he were my little boy again.
A Mother's Protection
As a small infant and well up into adulthood, we instantly guard our children, cover there eyes, turn them in another direction and even magnify what is true to make sure they are not blemished or contaminated with:
gang violence predators (animals/humans) sickness disease accidents or injury abuse the unknown heartbreak death pain embarrassment earth' elements disasters danger
The list goes on. As long as they are in our company or control, we are successful, but when they become of age to be on their own, our protection is then our fervent prayers by faith. Those prayers become more intense when they are facing troubles such as jail or prison time.
This is when our faith in God definitely goes to another level. Now they are out of their, and our, comfort zone. I called huge warring angles from all four directions to stand guard on every corner to fight what comes toward my son. Heavenly angelic beings to be encamped around him even when he sleeps. You have no other choice but to switch from my protection, which is superficial, to God's protection. God's protection is mighty and powerful. Belief kicks in like never before, it has to. So.... there! He's covered in that area now...I can exhale, at least for now anyway.
A Mother's Journey
The old cliché` says, "You follow your heart. In times such as these, you literally follow your heart because your son is your heart.
For every mile that he traveled, as a mother, you were shoulder to shoulder with him. But your real journey begins when you distinguish your sons out cry from everyone else's cry. Ok! Pull your boot straps up, snap your suspenders, roll your sleeves up, turn your cap brim to the back, pack your tin lunch box because you're about to take a 8 year journey.
You're not sure where it's going to take you, you just know you have to take it no matter where you have to go. Are you ready? Yes, then lets go...!
The first year started off very unusual. Blind to the system but you know you gotta learn quickly. You got to suck up the tears, hit your chest, talk to yourself and say, ok...I can do this, I have to do this. No one else is willing to do it for me...and you dive into the unknown world of jail cells, huge unfriendly monstrous looking prisons, uncaring faces that don't smile, they don't care.
You have to go through the motions like everyone else during your first visit with your son, because you are insignificant little dot in a large ugly world that you never experienced before. Week after week, month after month. It's like you are feeling your way around a dark room. This is a world within the world. At times, that world makes you feel like you are the accused. But what can you do, it's bigger then you? Just follow the rules.
Six months has already flown by you, five and one half of those months, you spent crying while on your journey. You wonder will that ever stop. The pain is like a well that goes on forever and has no bottom. Are there any tears left? You cry again, there's just as many tears as it was the very first time you cried.
All these tears come from deep pain and unbearable hurt. Some days you're exhausted from crying. It starts to show up on your face with the puffiness around your eyes and the fatigue from loss of sleep.
The next six months, you learn how to rest from it all and take breaks. But he continues to call you. In between the phone calls, you take advantage of that time and find relief but try not to feel guilty about it.
A year has passed by, that was the hardest thing I've ever done. Now you've mastered the visits along with occasional bouts of escaping from it all without the guilt. You have done the first year with your son. The initial shock is over.
Crying is now to a minimum of once a week. You feel ok with talking to him on the telephone once a week on the weekend. He sounding a little more secure though you still feel him reaching out to you, but you're stronger.... somewhat.
This is the ending of the beginning of your journey. What's next? How will my son and I survive the next year of this journey?
Eight and a half years have passed by. I finally crossed over the finish line with my son. It was indeed a life's experience. Only four years later is when I'm able to talk about it and share it with you.
A Mother's Pain
Statistics says in terms of physical pain (some years ago), on the scale of 1-10, 10 is labor pain and men faint at 7. Whether this is fact or not, this describes physical pain in a type of measurement.
But a mother's pain cannot be measured on a scale or even by statistics, nor is this comparing men with women. The only one who can describe a mother's pain is a mother who has gone through or is presently going through a type of tragedy with her child.
How can we help this mother in this pain? What can we do to take it away or stop it, help to ease the pain, etc? You can't, there is nothing on "this earth" to help a mother in pain but a Higher Power who brings healing to the pain that's embedded in her heart. The pain does subside through healing. It does and will leave you to only leave a scar, a memory.
A Mother's Heart
The contents of all mothers heart 80% love 20% tough love
A "mother's" heart is especially designed for her children. With others, we guard and protect our heart, but with our children who we love, our heart is wide open to them, which causes it to easily be broken by them. That's when the 20% comes in handy.
Though there are times, or should I calculate many times, that we do not exercise the 20% when we should while it leads to disappointments, hurt, and pain, our hearts are not designed to handle when your child commits a crime and is incarcerated. That was not in the equation.
That's why it's so devastating and overwhelming when this unfortunate disaster takes place. It feels as though someone rips your heart out, throws it down and crushes it with their foot. How painful is that?
A Mother's Cry
It is written that certain angels in heaven collect the tears of Gods people in a bottle and store the bottles in an appointed place to keep. There has to be a separate room for the tears of a mother to be stored. My imagination would tell me that there is, only God knows.
There is crying, weeping, and sobbing that comes from deep inside the heart and soul. The initial impact of our sons being snatched away from our hearts causes the sobbing. The sobbing goes on for a while, then turns to weeping, which is the reaction from pain.
Throughout the painful months and years is the crying from a broken heart as well as from fear. The light at the end of the tunnel is when it all stops, and it does.
A Mother's Survival
From the very beginning of the series of events that took place with the incarceration of your son until the end, you wonder how you made it through. Now looking back 4 years later with my experience, it took a lot of prayer, reconditioning my mind not to think of the worst, finding humor at the most convenient times.
At times, struggling to keep a positive outlook on things as well as the future, and the list goes on was I must say, my biggest challenge. If you know that the light at the end of the tunnel does exsist, you find ways of surviving the whole ordeal.
Reaching deep within yourself for strength that you didn't know you had and on top of pulling from others strength during your weakness also helps us.Physically draining your mind as well as your body after crying for days, hours,and months, and wondering where all the tears are coming from makes you feel as though you cannot face another day because you know this is what you will automatically do for that day.
There is a mountain of excruciating pain that we must overcome, once you reach the top of that mountain of pain, you turn around and look down into the valley you came out of, and you realize it was quite a distance from the bottom to the top. At the top of the mountain you notice you've inquired more wisdom, knowledge, strength, courage and patience.
That mountain does really exists in our minds. How did I survive? I never stop climbing that mountain until I reached the top, And I Did Reach The Top!
A Mother's Anger
I once heard that anger was fear turned inside out. Let's take a few minutes to think about that and evaluate it.
The definition of anger from Webster's dictionary says: anger means hot displeasure, often because of opposition, a hurt.
A mother's anger is when it comes to her children is emotionally uncontrolled within the depths of her soul. In this case when we experience the unfairness of the justice system, or after pleading with a judge for mercy for our son, and we are not heard, betrayed, disappointed or just plain ole let down. The anger takes center stage of our minds.
But what can we do? we are helpless so we just cry, cry, cry. In combination with anger and heartbreak, it intensifies the pain and the hurt. In the meantime, we slowly sink into depression and close ourselves off to the world only communicating when we have to.
At the end of the day, all you want is your son. Your heart longs for him day and night. If we could stand outside the tall bob wire fence and yell to our sons, "Mommies' here", we would do it day and night, but in reality we can't come to their aid we can only hope and dream that they will walk through the gate with us standing on the other side of it.
Now that the anger has calmed down, our eyes are puffy and red, we are exhausted from crying, the hurt and pain grips our heart even more, we just sit there and stare until the next episode of anger occurs...and it will.
All the time if we could stand before the courts, prison guards, etc. We would say, "whatever you do, don't mess with my child" (and mean it)! A mother's anger is just what it is, a mother's anger.
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A Mother's Hug A Mother's Letters A Mother's Prayers A Mother's Disappointments A Mother's Visits A Mother's Fears A Mother's Love A Mother's Courage A Mother's Voice A Mother's Responsibility A Mother's Dream A Mother's Release Day A Mother's Day In Court A Mother's Travel A Mother's Prison Within The Prison A Mother's Reward A Mother's Sorrow and Grief A Mother's Wish A Mother's Protection A Mother's Journey A Mother's Pain A Mother's Heart A Mother's Cry A Mother's Survival A Mother's Anger A Mother's Sorrow & Grief A Mother's Wish A Mother's Protection
WITHIN THE SOUL OF A MOTHER