This letter was written by a person incarcerated at Mule Creek.
In January [redacted] gets called into the case counselor’s office, and they tell him that due to COVID scores, laws changing, and a whole lot of crazy, but beneficial circumstances, he’s going home. I remember the tears of joy in his eyes when he spoke on how he’d finally get to be with his wife who stood by him for every day of 16 years. And finally, gets to play with his grandchildren.
I used to joke with him that he has to be the world’s oldest young grandpa. In a few weeks my friend, and reason why I decided my life is more worth than what I’ve made it, walked out the prison gates after 16 plus years of struggling, surviving, and preserving. Finally, his beautiful wife and children could rejoice and rebuild a life they all dreamed about for 16 long, painful years. Full of sacrifice, and forced blind faith.
One month later, [redacted], died. His body suffered from prolonged effects of COVID exposure, and compounded with other underlying health issues, just gave out. As I sit here write you, my heart flutters in pain because COVID robbed the world of my friend. COVID has taken four people from my family, and still my time here is the only guarantee in my life.
