K. E.

Friday night found me sitting alone in my living room which was lit only by candle light.  Do you know what a candle flame looks like through tear filled eyes?  It’s beautiful.  The flair seems to spread far beyond it’s reality, and as I stare into it, emotions are brought forth that I wasn’t even aware were there.  I would have liked for it to consume me in my thoughts, but instead it merely provided a perfect place for me to . . . . . feel.

What I was feeling was this huge sense of loss.  The man I had befriended (Kevin) whom was spending the rest of his life in prison was “discharged” just the day before.  Discharged is the official prison term.  Unofficially, he died.

I had not heard from him in a few weeks, which wasn’t like him.  His sister called me early Friday evening with the news.  She’s a very nice person, and I had spoken to her on 2 other occasions. She told me that he had not been feeling well – was admitted to a hospital and then found out he had a lung disease, which spread rapidly from the bottom up. 

A prisoner’s family is not contacted when their loved one is admitted to the hospital, you know.  Only when admitted to ICU are they notified.  Kevin was put on life support and fell in and out of consciousness.  The decision was made to remove the breathing tube.  Afterward, he smiled every so slightly.  Knowing how hard this would be for his mother, he waited 6 hours for her to leave the room and then . . . . after over 20 years of imprisonment, suddenly and finally Kevin was free. 

My intention is not to glorify his life or death.  He was most certainly guilty of a horrible crime.  A crime which haunted him in the light of day, and the dark of night.  I chose to understand who he was then, what he had done, and who he had become since.  I chose him as a friend, he chose to accept, and we shared . . . everything.  For more than 7 years we wrote each other about family, friends, highs and lows.  Often on Saturday mornings the first thing I would do was write him a letter.  I’d find pictures, cartoons and articles I thought might be of interest to him.  He was an intelligent man, completing several educational courses until the prison system did away with that opportunity.  After all, why feed the mind of a lifer?

Later on in the night, it dawned on me that I was being selfish for feeling such a loss, because it meant that he was no longer imprisoned and his soul was set free.  That alone is cause to be happy.  But the fact remains, I have lost a great deal of purpose in my life from the loss of Sharon, our Kev, and my Kev.  I don’t know if everyone feels this way, but I need purpose, and right now I’m feeling a little lost.

I was just thinking . . . I never signed my letters with love.  I did not want to give him any false impressions.  Now that I think about it, I should have.  I realize that I did love him.  I don’t know any living creature who is not worthy of love.

Hey Kev, I really  miss you, and even if I don’t look to be, I am very happy for you.  And just for the record . . .

Love,
Brenda

“Our real self, the soul, is immortal. We may sleep for a little while in that change called death, but we can never be destroyed. We exist, and that existence is eternal. The wave comes to the shore, and then goes back to the sea; it is not lost. It becomes one with the ocean, or returns again in the form of another wave. This body has come, and it will vanish; but the soul essence within it will never cease to exist. Nothing can terminate that eternal consciousness. “

                                                      — Paramahansa Yogananda