(Sonni’s note: Jamie and I have written many letters to each other about our families and the hurt they can cause. I think most people don’t really think about how their actions, or lack of actions, affect the people they say they love. They love you as long as you don’t ask anything of them that takes them out of their comfort zone. It hurts when people are selfish and don’t think about how their actions affect you. Most of the time they don’t even realize they hurt you. Jamie has been so supportive of me during the bad times I’ve gone through with my liver transplant, and lack of interest of my own family about how I was doing. It breaks my heart knowing the pain he has gone through waiting for family, and waiting for Megan, who don’t answer letters or visit. Megan went on with her life. Jamie couldn’t go on with his, and his family, I guess, had their own busy lives. I understand that. Each person has their own priority list and sometimes we’re at the bottom of that list. Maybe it’s ‘out of sight out of mind’. I waited for the mail each day hoping there was a letter from him. Sometimes all it takes to get through something unpleasant is knowing that someone, out there, cares about you. I speak for myself, as well, when I write that.
This letter was written a couple years ago. The time frame doesn’t matter. Not a lot has changed. But through the effort of reaching out to people, I know he has had more people lately to hold him up. Other people have written to him.
This is the main reason why I reached out to him. I wanted him to know that someone cared. In the early years of writing I believe I got to know a man that few people took the time to know. You can know your family for decades but that doesn’t mean you really know each other. In my opinion, he was “written off”. But he had also spent the ages of 17-21 in juvy, so he had left them long ago. I became someone he could write to. He could dump the feelings of loneliness and despair on me. I listened.
There is no physical contact when you are locked away in a box. It strangles the heart. The craving to touch another human being is overwelming. I became his family. This is why I became “Mom”. How can I adequately explain the desire in me to wrap myself around him and keep him safe, relieve the feeling of being so alone, if even for a little while? He IS family. He is my grandson’s father. We are connected by blood. So many of his family gave up on him the same way my family in my home state gave up on me when I moved to Pa for my transplant, and except for my husband, I had no one. No one who knew me growing up cared enough to send a get well card. They were too busy resenting me for coming home That was a real eye opener. Jamie and I were both wounded people. I understand the need to keep trying to belong to the family who looked like caring people on the outside but were selfish and judgmental on the inside. We had each other.)
So how are things with you, mom? Are you feeling any better? I sure hope so. I know you can’t wait to get things on the road. Well that makes two of us. The times you aren’t feeling well, I’m not either. I sit and worry and stress when I don’t hear from you. I got a letter from my older brother. I was saving my last stamp to write a letter to Megan, but I wrote him back instead. I wrote to him about what was happening with me and about how I feel. I told him not to worry about nothing because I was going to give everyone their space and not write again.
My brother sent me back a letter and said, they didn’t put me in here so stop trying to make everyone feel bad. All I wanted was to hear from my family. I wrote and told him that I know nobody else put me here in prison. I’m not trying to make anyone feel bad. I speak what I feel. Most of the stuff I feel, mom, I don’t speak about. You see, being on lockdown 23-24 hours a day will make you want to harm yourself. I’ve written plenty of letters wanting to tell everyone how I feel. However, I don’t want to hurt the ones I love. So many say they love me but really they don’t care. So, I will write the letters and get it off my chest and then flush them down the toilet. I guess you can say it’s a stress reliever. I have sat and thought about how I’ve messed up. I’ve even cried about it. I know I’ve let my families down. My mom, brothers and sister, my neices and nephew as well as Megan and the kids. I know how to accept that, but not my family. I know it’s hard for them to accept it. However, life goes on and if they can’t accept it there is nothing I can do about it as of now. I’ve accepted it. I have no other choice. But when I get out of here I’m going to have another choice. I don’t know where I’m going to go but it will be the hell away from my home town.
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