One Day ? 2007

Christopher

It all began like any other day. The lights outside the door come on. You hear the heavy footsteps of steel toe capped boots, muffled voices and the jangle of keys. Then the turning of locks and the slamming of doors as the XR2s do their count of the inmates, or bodies, as the staff like to say.

Their rounds are done and shortly afterwards you hear "check correct" and they open the bodies' doors.

It's breakfast, showers and general socializing for about 45 minutes until 8:30am then inmates with jobs go to their place of work, if no work then bang up.

On this particular Monday I wasn't working so I was banged up until about l0am. This was my chance to phone my mum who I didn't manage to get hold of on the Sunday. The phone rang and rang. No answer? I thought to myself she will be at the shop getting milk or something, the shop is just over the road so I went to make a cuppa and have a tab to pass a few more minutes.

I went back to the phone. This time it was engaged. Maybe she was chatting to my sister, an aunt or one of her many friends. I left it again and went to talk with a pal. About half an hour later I tried phoning my mum again. This time the phone was ringing out. Something in my gut was tightening. I phoned my sister Katherine, who stayed about 5 minutes away and asked if she had seen mum. She said only on the Sunday morning for breakfast, after that mum went to the pub for her usual Sunday drink with friends.

It wasn't unusual for mum to have a wee party now and again as is the case with some of her friends. My mum after all was the life and soul of any party, game for a laugh and though she was nearly 70 years old she could hold her own and last the course?

Katherine got my wee niece Chantelle to go up to mum's and see if she was in. I left it 10-15 minutes and called back. Katherine said that Chantelle had been up knocked the door but there was no answer; the only movement from within the bungalow was the wee Jack Russell at the window.

I was starting to worry. Although it wasn't unusual for my mum to be out, especially on a Monday, I knew that in recent months she had been to the hospital for some tests but she had told me that there was nothing to worry about. It was to do with her diabetes. She was over weight and did drink to excess when she partied which was almost every weekend and occasionally during the week.

I expressed my concerns to Katherine but she assured me there was nothing to get alarmed about. I agreed, apprehensively and said I would try to phone mum again after lunch.

Lunch in here is around 12 noon so although I didn't have long to wait I just couldn't settle. If I weren't in prison then wherever I was I would've jumped in the car and went to mum's house to see if there was any problem. I thought more about my sister's words whilst I was having lunch and although I didn't eat much as my stomach felt like I had jumped from a plane to do a sky dive. I did start to rationalize the situation. It is all too easy to let your mind run away in here and think the worst of any situation because apart from visits, letters and phone calls prison is a hard ride despite the public's perception of prison life. Those who have been in prison will know what I'm talking about, those that say it's easy are kidding no one but themselves.

I waited until just after 1pm. I phoned my sister first in case mum had gone there for some lunch, after being at the shops. There was no answer. I hung up and entered mum's number. It seemed ages but was only twice. My sister answered. I said a quick hello before the S.P.S. message cut in so either way she knew it was me. When the message had ended there was a silence then I could hear voices in the back ground. I couldn't pick anyone out in particular. I thought at this point maybe the Monday club was at my mum's instead of the local boozer. My sister said, "Christopher, has no one been to see you?" I said, "No". As soon as she said that I knew. Even if she hadn't started crying towards the end I knew it was mum. My heart sank faster and deeper than it ever had before. I started to fill up and the anger was building. My cousin Sarah came on the phone and said, "Christopher I'm sorry, your mum has died".

The only words I could say were, "I need to go". I hung up the phone. My tears of sorrow, shock, hurt, anger with myself were all apparent to the other cons on the landing.

I wanted to explode, my mum was gone and how does anyone accept that? My mum had always been there for me unconditionally in every way.

My world had just fallen apart and there was nothing I could do. When my mum, Mary, had needed me I was in prison. I feel guilt each day for other reasons but nothing prepares you for the loss of someone so close. I can only try to live my life the way my mum would've wanted in the future and hope success will dull this pain.