The sound of his voice caused my throat to suddenly tighten, constricting my attempt to speak into the phone. I also felt something ripping and tearing deep within my heart. How can that beautiful voice saying “Mum” belong to my son and be coming from within prison walls?
So I mustered up my bravery and inhaled a long deep breath, “I love you” was my immediate response into the phone. There were so many questions I wanted to ask, but all I really wanted to tell him was that I love him and that I forgive him. I told my son that we will get through this, and that his dad, sister and brother also love him.
We have continued our weekly routine of a single, short phone conversation – chatting about lots of things, but not really anything in particular. I am now accustomed to hearing the background ‘noise of prison’ it sort of sounds like an ‘man version’ of a school playground!
I am also accustomed to the raw sadness I feel at the end of those brief phone calls – thinking that another seven days will pass before I hear his voice again. His voice sounds exactly the same as it always has – almost tricking me to believe that he is just down the road at a friends house.
After nearly four months of remand, whereby my daily existence has been fuelled mainly by sadness and grief – his case will go to court today for a bail application and subsequent rehabilitation placement. If the judge deems it appropriate, my son may be transferred to a ‘transitional facility ‘ and commence his journey of rehabilitation. I have not seen my son for five months – but I cannot allow myself to become too hopeful upon the outcome of today.