37 and a half to life

June 20, 1994 was the first of a five day trial. My mother in law came to stay with me for the week and I was so grateful to have someone to live through the experience with me. My husband was dressed in a pair of khaki slacks, vest and shirt; he looked like himself again. Each morning he was allowed to get into his civilian, free-person costume and each evening he would change back into his green, punitive uniform. The third day of trial was his birthday. He turned 24 year old, but there would be no congratulations, no hugs, no celebration, just hope. Most of the trial is a blur to me. The anxiety I was experiencing was so overwhelming, I couldn't focus on the words being said. What I do remember is the overall message about my husband being a "bad guy." The person they kept describing did not sound like him at all. Had he been half the 'thug' they claimed, he would have posted bail with no problem. Instead, he sat in County Jail for eight months. Time he could

I was 13 years old when I met the boy that would later become my husband. My family had moved here from Puerto Rico less than two years prior. He was the first "African American" boy I had ever talked to and he thought that was hilarious. In broken English I would tell him all about my newcomer, teenage issues and mishaps and he thought I was funny. He would give me advise and took on a big brother role in my life. Our friendship grew over the next few years and one day we both realized that we had feelings for each other. In 1993 I became a mother. I gave birth to a beautiful, rosy-cheeked baby girl whom I loved from the instant I saw her! Her father was my best friend-turned-love of my life, but ours was tumultuous situation at the time. He was not the boy I once knew, his humor was gone and happiness escaped him. We became strangers. Nine months after the arrival of our daughter he was arrested. The details seem so distant now but the events of that day would forever c

When I introduce myself to a stranger I always state my name, but what follows depends on my audience. "Hi! I'm Wanda, I am... a daughter, a sister, a 'single' mother of five, an aunt, a college graduate, a teacher, bilingual, from Puerto Rico, Catholic, my son's pancreas, soon to be a mother in law, A PRISON WIFE!" For many years only a small number of people were aware of that last title. I wanted to appear to be as normal as possible. In my mind, having a husband in prison was the farthest from normal. I worried that people would not take me seriously or would think that I was a bad person. Four years into my journey I received a bachelors degree and became a teacher. That's when I really became secretive about my relationship. Fast forward almost twenty four years... here I am, ready to publish my experiences and expose myself to the world (or at least to those interested in reading about my misadventures). I have recently come to a realization; what