He’s not just a number to someone

Today, while I was walking the track, a friend joined me for an hour.  He is a Christian, a father, and a stoic, wonderful man.  Nearly 10 years ago he made a mistake that earned him a 12 year sentence.  He has been in prison since his son was 12 years old. In that time he was done all he could to maintain contact, write letters, have visits and do what little he can from prison.  He even had a book published with the letters he has written his son over the years.  He is one of the good ones, self-reflexive and penitent for his mistakes.  His wife stayed with him, and on the few visits I have had, she is usually there every week visiting him along with their daughter.  My wife even met them briefly when she came with my sons for a visit.  

 

His son died last Sunday morning, fentanyl overdose.  

 

His wife makes a great living, they live in a nice suburban neighborhood, but when his son turned 18 he moved out, and found himself clearly in some relationships despite his mother and fathers effort to deter him, that lead to this tragedy.  

 

We spoke, I shared that I too lost a son years ago and there is nothing that can be said, but that I am sorry.  We spoke of God, the vanity of things of this earth, and about processing grief.  We did touch on politics as well…

 

I have struggled to understand how to deal with some of society’s complex problems and how the prison system fits into that.  We talked about how Donald Trump has threatened 25% tariffs on our neighbors to the north and to the south, if they don’t stop the flow of Fentanyl. We talked about how certain ‘free traders’ are more concerned about the price of trinkets and alternators than the life of his son, and societies sons, daughters, fathers, mothers, sisters and brothers. The scourge of fentanyl is like nothing we have ever seen before.  

 

We talked about my wife’s non-profit and its purpose to try to fill the gap for things like the loss of a father in the home.  To try and provide positive activities, sports, dance, summer camps, anything to try to provide structure and support for them.  This is why it matters…if we can help one single child be deterred from a fentanyl overdose, or a prison bid themselves, then this might have been worth it.  If tariffs slow the flow of fentanyl and bring jobs home so people don’t have to sell drugs or numb their pain with them, then they are worth it.  

 

Society’s problems are serious, and they are personal.  My heart aches for my friend, his situation is surprisingly common within these walls.  Hopefully we raise our expectations as a country and we do the hard work necessary to heal our land and end the unnecessary suffering.  Ultimately we can only be the change we want to see. Find a way you can do your part. I think about this everyday, this is why it matters.  

 

Taylor

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