One day after the yard recall, I was in my cell listening to some music. I wondered why my mom hadn’t picked up the phone or written to me. Then, out of nowhere, my cell door opens. I step out to see what’s going on. The officer tells me to follow him. So I’m walking, and then it hits me. This could be about my grandma, and I feel something pull away from me as I continue walking. Then the officer handed me a sticky note and said your cousin wants you to call her. I start to trip out more.
I started dialing the number. She picked up and said, “Cuz Luis, please don’t go crazy, but grandma is gone.” I asked, “Where did she go?” My cousin said, “Not like that; she is in heaven with Grandpa, your dad, and your mom.” I say, “Don’t f***ing play me like that.” She says, “I’m not, just looking to be honest with you. The whole family didn’t want to inform you about this. I told them you were her son and grandson, so I had the right to call to let me know.” She said she couldn’t leave me without knowing the truth.
Once I got out of prison, I found out that when my cousin did call, it had already been a whole damn f***ing month. It sent my mind for a naturally tough spin, but that is a story for the next time we talk.
