Crestfallen and jubilant, at nine o'clock this morning, as a beautiful golden orb filled the morning sky, I watched my best friend (truthfully more like a son or nephew) walk underneath the glinting concertina fencing, off of this prison yard, and out into the waiting arms of freedom and a brand new chapter (a brand new tome) of his life. Watching him stroll out the eastern gate the sun seemed to cast a halo around his head as its radiant beams bounced off of the red and blond highlights in his hair. He was quite literally walking out of a place of darkness and into the light. I kept watching, squinting, until he disappeared like a ghost into some great beyond where all of us whom are left behind long to be.
Holding back the urge to shout some parting words of encouragement, a final farewell, or "Your hair looks nice", I stood there with a mutual friend watching him vanish across the veil. I was caught up in a rush of emotions ranging from immense pride and joy to a deep sense of grief and mourning. I am proud of the person he has become (I feel like I raised him from a 15 year old boy into a 41 year old man over the past 3 years) and am full of overwhelming joy for the future paths that the Lord has set in front of him to journey down. While our friendship will endure for our lifetimes, I also mourn the loss of our daily interactions. My life has significantly changed, once again. Rationally, I do not know that I can adequately explain the bonds of brotherhood that we share. Maybe it is unique to the incarceration experience. It approaches the closeness that BJ and Hawkeye portrayed on the final seasons of MASH on television. I imagine men who have served in the military experience this bonding. I think that our deep friendship in Christ as described in 1 Samuel 19-20 and 2 Samuel 1:23-27 describes well our comradeship. I have only felt this way about three or four other people in my lifetime one of whom I was married to for a long time. I opine that neither of us actually said "goodbye" this morning as we know we will be in contact soon, but for now our daily interactions are curtailed. He has been the person I sat across from in the chow hall three times a day for 910 days. He has usually been the first person I saw/spoke to in the morning and the last person I saw/spoke to at the end of the day. We went to work together, we worked out together, we went the church together, we played Scrabble together, and we did so many other activities together on a daily/weekly basis that it is going to take quite some time to get used to this new paradigm without him. Serendipitously, one of the best, most impactful, and most memorable things CMcD and I did together was be our own two person book club. We discovered early on the we both had an appreciation for literature: a mutual love for reading and we would frequently read the same book on self growth, sociology, or stories of inspiration. We would highlight, underline, and dog ear sections to discuss once we had both finished the book. Similarly, we each have a passion for writing and even designed our own contest where we would draw 5-7 random words from a jar and have to create a short story in an hour or so. A third party would read our anonymously essays and declare a winner. We were our own Chautauqua.Truthfully, he was (we were) so competitive that he created WWW stylized "Title Belts" that were prominently displayed on our locker boxes for everyone to know whom was the current Scrabble, Jeopardy, and Trivial Pursuit champion. This friendly competitive nature was part of what made our relationship so unique. I was able to retain the Scrabble belt in the end and I am sure he looks forward to our rematch in 48 months. Almost everything was a competition: sit ups, mile runs, anything that he could one up "Uncle Pa" in! Lord, how I'm going to miss that (it's crazy how I'm grinning so wide yet tearing up simultaneously as I write this).
Over thirteen years ago Kimberly and I were so confident that our jury was going to 100% exonerate me, that God was going to be faithful to His repeated promises to expose lies and liars and reveal the truth, that we rarely talked about the "what ifs" of what ultimately became our forced divorce and my current estrangement from Monica. It took me years to heal from the pain of those heartbreaking rifts. I still don't have 100% closure. Fortunately, this time, I was able to prepare for this separation and did some pre-work with Chris and my CR sponsor to bring about some closure. This time there is also the reassurance that this friendship will continue beyond these fences (due in large part to our ability to text, email, send pictures/video, and interact in other ways).
Puckishly though, once he was gone, he was gone (I go, I go look how I go, swifter than arrow from the Tartar's bow). I had to chose to move on as well: to keep moving forward with my day. I had my regular Friday activities to tend to. White hot tears cascaded my eyelids as I walked back to my dorm, grabbed my cleaning supplies, and went to scrub our sinks and toilets. I was thankful for the few minutes alone with the porcelain while I quickly scoured yesterdays filth away and got ready to go spend some quality personal time inside the prayer lodge to connect with the Father.
His exiting, regrettably, (while a reason to C E L E B R A T E) has triggered all of the rejection and abandonment issues that I have worked so hard to resolve and heal from over the past 13 years. In the weeks and days leading up to his discharge today I have found myself grieving the loss of Monica, Brandon, and Kimberly all over again. I spent my time in the deep dark womb of the sweat lodge after he left this morning praising God for our friendship while simultaneously sobbing in great heaving convulsions for my loss. I also went to Celebrate Recovery® where I couldn't even speak of my new "current struggle" without tearing up, but it helped to around other men who knew that I was having an emotional day.
Evidently, underlying all of these emotions, or maybe because I am so emotionally vulnerable today, I also find myself full of resentment towards God for allowing this 15 year long saga in my life to continue to go on. He could have easily exposed all of the lies and liars at any time since Myrtha's initial lie on 10/9/2009, yet I continue to find myself ostracized on this side of the concertina wire. While I am grateful that the lies of Myrtha Mikle and Bella Mendoza were exposed at trial and I was acquitted, I fail to understand why my son's weaponized false allegations of abuse are still left unexposed. I should never have been incarcerated. But I was/am, and I so desperately want to be walking out of here with my nephson today, and find myself resenting Brandon for continuing to choose to live in his lies everyday: lies that keep me separated from the people I love. I just need to remind myself that this weak and idle theme is no more yielding than a dream, and if I will pardon They will mend.
Restoration and reintegration are two of the deepest desires of most incarcerates. However, many people can not see past our (perceived) offenses. They would rather reprehend than restore amends. I am so proud of my parents whom met CMcD downtown this morning, took him out for a birthday breakfast (he turned 41 today) and then dropped him off at his waiting employment. They are planting the seeds of how they want people to treat me when I discharge: seeds whose fruit I WILL reap in the hear future. I am looking forward to hearing all about the new ways that King Jesus is using CMcD' unearned luck to bless so many people through the way he lives out these new chapters in the new life that he begins today.
From A Midsummers Night's Dream
(Puck's reading was also from the closing scenes of one of my all time favorite movies, The Dead Poet's Society. This movie truly inspired and motivated me to be the phenomenal educator that I am)
PUCK:
If we shadows have offended,
Think but this, and all is mended,
That you have but slumber'd here
While these visions did appear.
And this weak and idle theme,
No more yielding but a dream,
Gentles, do not reprehend:
if you pardon, we will mend:
And, as I am an honest Puck,
If we have unearned luck
Now to 'scape the serpent's tongue,
We will make amends ere long
Else the Puck a liar call
So, good night unto you all.
Give me your hands, if we be friends,
And Robin shall restore amends
