Folsom Prison Blues

Of all the awful places to sleep, (ask me about my Girl Scout camping experiences sometime) prison has to be one of the worse-

I went to visit my friend in prison today-God willing he will be out this month. Get padded down, give them my driver’s license to hold, punch in the pass code, hear the huge metal doors open and close with a deafening clang.

I know you think I’m going to be writing about the coarse sheets, non existent padding on the thin mattresses, metal bunks…but that’s not what strikes terror in me the most. It’s the loneliness.

When people don’t want to face themselves or their lives at night, they turn on the TV, (Yes, it’s true. Better to watch someone’s make believe life than their own) or go out, maybe call up a friend.

But in prison? One thing my friend has told me over and over again, is that you never, EVER show fear. Fear, loneliness, discomfort, sadness; showing any of these emotions, makes you an instant target.

I call, text message, email or grab the Chihuahua to hug when I feel lonely or unsure. At night, when I’m lying there in the dark and going over and over in my head every wrong or right turn I’ve made in my life, it is comforting to know I CAN reach out to someone. I’ve been blessed with the BEST family and friends.

And it’s what I try to do when I’m sitting in the visiting area with him,  squeezing his hand.  I look around at the lovers stealing kisses, parents visiting their sons, fathers with their young children running around the small patch of grass outside, pretending it’s just a family outing and that the barb wire really doesn’t exist.

And everybody smiles and talks and laughs and tries to cram a lifetime of emotion and life into one 6 hour visiting session.

And my heart breaks everytime I hear that hated metal door slam shut, and I’m leaving him behind.

There is a Spanish prayer ‘Sleep with the Angels’ I whisper for him and I pray they give him the sweetest dreams of freedom…

Jane