Prison is an especially tough place to hear about a crisis in the family. Most of our support network, if we are blessed with one at all, is beyond these walls and we are left with sinking news to grieve alone.
My friend, Cameron, has had a crushing week so far. First came news on Monday that his ex-girl-friend, who hadn't written in months, was victim to an abusive relationship that hospitalized her for some time. The girl's older brother was a childhood friend of mine, so Cameron came me as a shoulder to dry on and share his grief with. I got the girl's address and wrote her an encouraging letter, but I also did my best to brighten up Cameron.
My efforts were dashed today, just two days later, when Cameron found out his grandmother had passed away right after his address was cleared for parole. So close to getting out to see her, but it didn't work out that way. Cameron's boss caught me in the hallway and, knowing how close we are, shared the news.
"Keep and eye on him" was my missive, a very decent gesture by his boss.
I found Cameron in the library and pulled him out into a side hallway so he would be away form other people and more free to grieve. As we stood in the hallway, the supply officer came by and asked what we were doing.
" Grieving," I replied.
"Well, go grieve somewhere else" came her brusque instructions.
Like I said, prison is a tough place for a crisis. I'll try to be open and available for Cameron as he works through this time, but I know I'm not any kind of replacement for his home and family.
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