I’m just lonely and it hurts. I miss everyone so much. It seems as if no one cares at all how I’m doing. And it bothers me that the woman I care so much for isn’t worried about my health or well being. No one stays in touch with me at all. It hurts that Megan is treating me as if I’m not Jamie’s dad. What I mean is, she don’t tell me nothing about how he’s doing. Everything I know comes from you. I’m very thankful for that. I would love to hear from Megan once or twice a month. What’s so hard about that? I get mad and try to write her to let her know I’m mad but I end up throwing the letter away. I tell myself it’s all my fault I’m here. Then again, it’s no reason for her to not stay in touch. If not for her then for the kids. I do love them and miss them so much.
It hurts so much not being there for Jamie. I’ve missed out on so much. I’m trying. I’m staying clear of trouble. I come up for parole on July 27, 2014. That’s one reason why I try to stay in touch with everyone. If these people decided to give me parole and they can’t get in touch with nobody I will have to wait for them to find me a half way house. I’m being treated like an unknown person by them.
(note from Sonni: at least 3 months before a parole hearing, a parole packet should be sent to the parole board to read. It’s important because it tells them what kind of support Jamie has. The chances of going back in are higher for those who don’t have family support. They want to see that there are people who will b help him get back on his feet. When an inmate has no one, he has to figure out himself how to get his life together. He may not have those life skills. So many inmates don’t. Jamie has never had the opportunity to live on his own to gain the experience he needs to live. There is much we take for granted; How to turn on utilities, how to open a bank account, how to do laundry. These are things we find easy. He doesn’t know how. He is going to need help and guidance to figure out all he’ll need to do to survive.
If there is no parole packet the parole board won’t know if there is support from the family, so his chance for getting paroled gets slim. But if there were letters from family and friends, past teachers or people in the community who would write a letter on his behalf, and if the board knew he would get financial help till he could get a job, it would help. But getting a job will be difficult in his case. His epilepsy hinders him getting a job. He can’t get a driver’s license. He didn’t have a chance to get any training in his short time in the free world, but he was collecting disability because of having epilepsy. That in itself makes it hard to find a job. These are all obstacles. But not impossible obstacles. Let’s call them challenges needing lots of determination.)
So, if it stays like this, why should I try? My son is young and he has dyslexia. It’s hard for him to write. It shouldn’t be nothing for Megan to give him some paper and let him color a picture for me. EVERY little thing touches my heart. I miss him so much. I sit here trying to read and my mind wanders thinking of everyone, from the night me and Megan met, even to the day I met Megan’s dad, to the day I first met my son. That was the most wonderful moment in my life. Please talk to Megan for me. Ask her what’s wrong. Why don’t she write to me? Tell her all she has to do is let me know. I can’t put up too much of an argument here. I just want the truth, that’s all. I’m going to close this letter. Take it easy, okay? Take one day at a time. The pain will be over soon and things will be just as beautiful as before. I love you mom
(Sonni’s note: Reading this letter again brings tears to my eyes. His pain pours out through his words. He has always expressed so much caring to me about these things that are important to him. It’s all he has that gives meaning to his life. His heart is big. He wrote this six weeks after I had a liver transplant. The healing had been very painful. He has always shown concern for me. He has kept my spirit up while I try to keep him going, too. Two wounded people living through the consequences of our own making. Cause and effect is very strict. Long ago I began calling him son, and he began calling me mom. He needed someone to hold him up during the times he couldn’t do it himself. I felt honored.)