And Now, for ACT III

Oct. 8, 2015

Today was the day we thought my son was coming home. From prison. I could almost hear the original score swell as we finally had arrived at the end of this real-life horror film.

But we thought wrong.

In July of this year, my son was told his release date would be Oct. 8, 2015. Today came and went. No release.

After writing several letters to all the prison officials he knew asking why he'd been given no specific details about his pending release yet, today, he finally got answers. Unfortunately, the answers he got weren't good ones. Apparently, the clerk who told him the Oct. 8 date made a mistake.

He isn't going to be released until November 2, 2015.

So it will be another 25 days. That's all. Not even a month more.

He's been incarcerated since March 28, 2013.

To date, that's 924 days.
Or 132 weeks.
Or 22,176 hours.
Or 1,330,560 minutes.
Or 79,833,600 seconds.

So what's the big deal about 25 more days?

I don't really know. But hearing the news today felt like he was arrested and incarcerated all over again. The wind was completely knocked out of me. I couldn't catch my breath. When he told me, I didn't let him hear how crushed I felt. I think he had the same idea. We basically took turns convincing the other one that 25 days will fly by.

Just when I think this entire nightmare is almost over, somebody comes along and tacks another chapter onto the end of our story. It's like we can't cross into ACT III of this horrifying screenplay. The rising action just keeps rising.

I can't climb anymore. I'm done. I just want resolution already.

Roll credits.

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