Friday, August 29, 2008

"Earl Called"



My son drew this. It was used in a Newspaper once. I changed my phone number a few weeks ago after several years due to some irritating phone calls that would not cease. But then I started getting calls from a correctional institution I was not aware of. It was an Afro American man and I am a Caucasian who does not know any Afro American men in prison. Thank God may I add in all good taste. Yet the calls kept coming a couple at a times on certain days. I would say I received about eleven or so calls. Each time I felt a pang of pain for the caller. This was a new number that someone obviously lost. I went through great time deciding on this phone number I chose. I am a numerologist (amateur yet a good one). So the number I chose was good for my life path....it would/should enhance my life. Well what a way to start enhancing huh? The calls stopped for a week or so and then today there it was again......I decided to accept the collect call which I knew would cost me between $17 and $30 dollars. Hey, I haven't tithed for a while...so I did. It was Earl.... darn those prisoners seem nice. So do bad husbands before you figure them out too... I told Earl this was a new number for me and I only accepted because I have a son that is incarcerated and I realized his plight. Earls' that is... He told me this number used to belong to his daughter.... he last wrote her on "such and such date." I cant recall the date. Earl had a genuine voice. Prison does that to people. It either makes them better or makes them worse.....no in between from what I have seen. Earl wished me well and thanked me profusely. I am sure he was being honest regarding that. Contact with the outside world is immeasurable to these men. The good ones anyway. Earl seemed like a good one, but then so did my third husband... not funny.. Oh yes it is!! Darn Chess Players anyway. Hey, I don't care...I hope Earl finds his daughter's new phone number or she contacts him ......... that's all I can do or hope for. I did my part, paid the "due's/money" for it, and then sobbed like a two year old. Now I am fine. Ya think? Anyone with a child incarcerated in a Federal Prison is not fine in some part of their being. Because there is a part of me incarcerated with him/her. We have the same blood/bloodline. But we do not have the same lessons. His, my son's, seemed to be sadly more difficult than most. Bless my son and bless Earl for a better life......
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