a reunion of sorts

I brought M with me when I went over to the shelter last night - and when we got there it was time to set up the room - basically lining the floor with rows and rows of narrow mats with about a foot in between. M immediately jumped in, dragging mats around and making the old guys who were trying to set up laugh. As they went along, another guy came and started helping, and it struck me there was something familiar about him, but he had a lot of tattoo ink on his face and that wasn't something you'd easily forget, so I didn't really make much of it.

A bit later he came up and commented on M, saying, man, she's cute. I haven't seen my own son in six years. He went on to say that he was happy because he had a guy storing his stuff for him and when he went and picked it up today his prized possession was still there - the only picture he has of he and his son.

At this point I say, you look really familiar to me. He said yeah, I was thinking that too but I've been in prison for the last six years so it's hard to say. And then he went on to ask me if I wanted to see the picture. Of course, I said. And so he dug it out and started to unwrap it.
He handed it to me and it was like a freaky bolt of lightning. Not only did I know this cat, but I am fairly sure I am the one who took the picture he is holding. He's sitting in front of an old family shelter I used to work at, and I was this dude's case worker.

I said, whoa, is your name _____ ? And he said, uh, well, shit... no one's called me that in six years. I go by Blue now. And I said Hey man, this might sound weird but I think I took this picture.....And we sat there for a minute dumbfounded and realized, yep, I did. We both remember it exactly the same way.

I mean, plainly put, what a fucking trip.

I remember when he went to jail. He was already on parole and stole a package of lunchmeat to feed he and his wife, got caught, and got six years. Six years for lunchmeat. I remember how outraged we felt back then. (And please know, I realize he did other really bad things or he wouldn't have been on parole. But they were non-violent charges, at least. But still, I know. But still. Lunchmeat.)

After a while I decided to run M home and then I came back and we ended up spending an hour or so catching up. He's different than I remember - cagey and a bit defensive, urgent to prove he's not a bad guy. A hell of a lot of ink on his face, symbols and sayings and god knows what else. I can only imagine what six years in prison does to a man.

He saved all of the certificates he earned and wanted me to take a look at them. I was surprised to see they had a hell of a lot of programs. I am not sure what job will look at Certification of Completion at the XXX State Penitentiary in a kindly fashion, but I'd imagine having a resume of some sort after six long years means a lot to him.

The last few days has re-opened my eyes to some things I've been missing. Some things I want to do differently. It's been good, despite my whining. I see more possibilities now. Or I've found a new energy. I've allowed for some missed opportunities out of laziness this year. It's been good, these last few days. I needed a whack in the head.