Letter to a Formerly Incarcerated Mother: Mothers and Prison

Dear Ma,

I can remember the anger and bitterness that I felt towards you as a little girl. I can also remember longing to share my A+ homework with you. The longing to talk to you about the issues that I, then an elementary school student, had. And my longing to share with you which boy had the worst case of “cooties.” More than the bitterness, I can remember the unbreakable bond, and the insurmountable love that I felt, that overpowered that bitterness and anger that I kept inside.

Granny used to take me up the highway to see you pretty much every weekend, and I always remember the small things that would amaze me. The way you and I would dress alike sometimes, wearing the same jumpsuit, or the way that you never seemed to be angry, or upset by your experience. I always cherished, and continue to cherish the photographs that we had taken. I also remember hating to leave the visiting room, and hating to leave you in that place, that required me to walk through metal detectors and through electric gates.

You told me recently that on my first visit to the prison, I cried. You told me then that I had to stop crying or I wouldn’t be able to visit anymore. As you said that, I dried my face as fast as I could. Most of all, I remember your letters, your phone calls, and you always telling me to be strong, because you only had a little while to go before you’d be home with me.

Momma, now that I am a young woman, eighteen-years-old, and you’ve been out of prison a number of years now, I realize that you and I are alike in more ways than one. I not only share your beautiful brown skin your broad flat nose, and the crinkle in the middle of your forehead that shows when you’re angry, frustrated or just plain tired. I not only share your “chicken legs, or your black baby toenail, but I share many of your inner qualities.

Our roads in life have been different. Your road had a lot of dead ends, a lot of close calls, a few accidents, and a lot of sharp curves, steep hills and streets with no lights to guide you. My road has been pretty straight and narrow, with a few unexpected weather conditions causing the road to be wet and slippery, a few potholes, and lots of speed bumps. Despite the fact that our roads have been different, I realize that our driving style, and our vehicles (that is, our approach to life) and our personality traits are very similar. You also have much more mileage than I do, thus I have learned from your life experience.