Someone to Miss

Each hour of every day you miss someone.  Your wife and kids, parents, siblings, cousins, even the familiar face you saw every day when you stopped for a morning cup of coffee on the way to work.  It hurts to think about all the experiences, the potential memories, that you're missing behind bars.  Birthdays, anniversaries, ball games, recitals, snow days, sick days – in your mind you convince yourself that everything is special.  You also begin to believe that all those people you miss so much will start to forget about you as they go on with their lives.  As much as that hurts, it’s better than feeling nothing at all. 

  

Compared to many of my fellow inmates, I feel fortunate because I actually have people to miss.  They serve as something to hold onto, to keep my head above water when I feel like I'm drowning, helping me get through the tough days.  These special relationships also give me hope for when I get out, looking forward to rebuilding and making new memories.  I don’t know how I would make it without the support of those who love and miss me.

Unfortunately, my situation is not the norm.  Most of the people I have met inside are alone and forgotten.  It is heartbreaking to see them go day after day without making a phone call, sending or receiving a letter, having a visitor, and never having any money show up on their account to purchase items from the canteen.  It is easy to see how one could lose hope.  I would rather cry every day for those I long to see than have no one at all.