Home, Again.


We weren't built from sympathy. That's a concept we've known at a young age, it's something you had four years to reflect on. At seventeen you were arrested on charges I won't speak on. If respect and pride were things you could physically hold and possess your situation wouldn't have led to what it did. Twenty plus Securus calls, a couple letters, and one visit later your release date finally came. Outside the barb wired facility your mother and I patiently awaited. There was a big snow storm the night before so your arrival was delayed by a few hours. "This storm thought it could keep my baby from getting home!" your mother joked as a white van pulled up near where we parked. You hopped out of the back of that van as if your landing would be on top of a red carpet. The moment your mother embraced you in her arms I swear the sun shined brighter and it continued to as we made our way to our grandmother's house. We spoke of future plans and caught up on what the rest of the world was up too while you were gone. One thing you said that I'll never forget is "what's understood doesn't need to be said", I repeated your statement in agreeance. Throughout the rest of the day those words began to ring truer and truer. A visit to the mall would add proof to this as we entered an Eblens to get you some clothes since you only had the sweatsuit you were released in to wear. At the check out counter the man that was working there knew of your situation as soon as he looked at you. "I was once in your shoes" the man proclaimed but he didn't delve deeper into a conversation about his time away or even ask you about your up north trip. Acknowledgement was made, he continued with the transaction and then we left.

"What's understood doesn't need to be said" - My Cousin, Vic

In a way the big snow storm and it's aftermath was symbolic of your journey into adulthood. Although the storm has passed you still have to be prepared for the cold days ahead of you. Use precaution with every move you make, similar to walking on black ice. You and I both understand that when we slip up, empathy may be the last thing to show and especially the the last thing to help us back up.