I have the fortunate experience to be the mother of three beautiful children, Landon, Cory and Bethany, all of which I love profoundly and unconditionally. Recently, my son, Cory Roussel, passed from this life and into the next, plunging us all into a redefined existence along with intense grief and sorrow. Through this process I am reminded of the profundity of my love for Cory and he for me. One of the most powerful expressions of this love occurred while my son was incarcerated in downtown San Diego as his probation was revoked on a charge of transporting an illegal alien across the border.
Prior to Cory’s return to prison, his life was one filled with anger, confusion and depression because of the hate he had stored in his heart for the probation department that failed him miserably. As a result, my experiences with him before leaving for prison were during a very dark period of his life. Immediately prior to his probation being revoked, Cory experienced a supernatural endowment of courage to forgive, which released him to begin the journey of transmuting a one year prison term to one of personal growth. During that time, Cory wrote many letters to many people, sharing this new freedom he was experiencing. It turned my world upside down and opened my eyes to an entirely new way of living.
After his being in prison for eight months, I chose to give myself the birthday present to be with my son. Because of the strict regulations regarding visitation, I was only allowed to visit for two hours on two consecutive days, Friday and Saturday. When I arrived on Friday, we were allowed to hug each other upon arrival and departure, but otherwise, the visit was a no contact visit sitting opposite each other with about 2 feet of separation in cheap white plastic chairs. His eyes locked mine for 2 hours as we communicated both verbally and unspoken. It was the first time that he allowed me to see him, his true self, completely and unabashedly. Pure love radiating out of his eyes like beacons.
Since I was not allowed to visit him on Sunday, he asked me to come to the park across the street from the prison at 3 o’clock. This prison is a high rise in downtown San Diego, he being 15 floors up. The plan was that he would stand in the window where he had instructed me to look. (It’s pretty hard to see someone clearly from 15 floors up.) While preparing to go I tried to think of what to do to send him a message from the park where I would be standing. I thought of a sign, but then quickly realized he would not be able to read it. So, I tore a large heart out of aluminum foil. At precisely 3 o’clock, I stood in the park looking up and shining my foil heart upwards, squinting up to look for Cory. Then I spotted him, waving wildly with both arms and shining a mirror. We stood there for 15 minutes, he radiating his love and light and I mine. It was one of the most profound moments of my life. Cory changed me completely with his love. For this I am deeply grateful. I love you, Cory.