37 and a half to life

Last month, the real life drama that unfolded in Upstate New York became a Showtime mini-series, Escape at Dannemora . Meanwhile, my husband sat at Clinton Correctional Facility, where these events (and some on-location filming) actually took place. He waited to be transferred somewhere, anywhere else, but expected to go to a medium security prison and hopefully be closer to home, at least in proximity.  Having visited that prison for the last two years, I can see why someone would want to escape it. I wrote about how it made me feel to be there and can only imagine what it must be like behind it's great wall. My husband never looked well while he was there. He actually suffered an injury on his index finger and never received the proper treatment despite asking for medical assistance numerous times. He was left to treat his finger on his own and months later it is still not back to normal.  A couple of weeks ago, my husband asked me to call Albany to find out the sta...

25 years, a quarter of a century, two and a half decades... however you put it... it's an awful long time to wait for someone to come home. Yet, as of 10 days ago, that is exactly how long my husband has been behind bars. October 21st, 1993. The silver anniversary came and went without me noticing. He sure didn't remind me and I was too busy. But the heaviness in our hearts is the reminder we have day in and day out; we can't shake that off, regardless of the date! With this anniversary, however, a new sense of hope has come. About a month ago, my husband called me to tell me that he'd been summoned to his counselor's office; he's due for a preferential transfer. His counselor told him that his classification also dropped... awesome news!!! He has spent every single moment of his incarceration at a Maximum facility. Now, he qualifies to go to a Medium. We are happy and exited... Medium Status represents a step closer to coming home, more freedom for him,...

Have you ever taken your kids to the playground only to have THAT kid show up? The one that always makes some other kid cry within five minutes of his arrival? The one that made you cringe when you found out he was in your daughter's first grade class? The one teachers pray he'll stay home... just ONCE!? We have all met THAT kid. Some of us have been THAT kid. Well... I'm his mom! Some call him spirited, others energetic, active, full of life... he needs to burn energy, yes. It started when he was 6 months old; he let out a shriek unlike anything I had ever heard before. As he got older, he was perceived to be 'aggressive' towards his peers. As an observer, I think he had a hard time with spatial awareness... he was clumsy and impatient so he would push his way through (the playground, a line, etc.). I was so hurt and embarrassed to hear other parents complain about THAT kid, that I started taking him to the playground when I knew it would be empty or close ...

Last night my eldest daughter called me, and with excitement, announced that she had run into a friend who, in her words, was "well connected." She sounded like her eight year old self whenever she learned something that really peaked her interest and filled her with curiosity- she couldn't stop talking! "Mami, this guy has dinner with Judges and Federal Prosecutors, he says he can help us, that all it takes is money and Papi can be home... he can come home, like tomorrow!!!" I listened to the high pitched sounds of my daughter's hopeful speech but I could not bring myself to share her sentiment. She sounded amazed to find out that all it takes is money, "you're preaching to the choir," was my thought, but I let her continue. She talked about privilege and that, for once, we may have a connection with someone who has it and can use it to help us. OK, so she has a point... but is it too late? My first thought is, I have no money. I have ex...

Long Point State Park at Dusk, 2017 For many people, summer is a time for relaxation, family vacations, to regroup and recharge. As a teacher, I can count on one hand the times I have worked during the summer- though I should (my wallet can attest to that!). Living in Western NY, I ought to look forward to the summer and, in some ways, I do. Not having to wake up early or to get the kids out of the house by a certain time is nice. The weather is incredible and saying goodbye to wearing socks and layers of clothes is heaven. Another perk of the good weather is that my husband gets to call more often. Since the phones at the prison are located outside in the "yard," he's able to call without worrying about the elements. The little things... In other ways I don't look forward to summer. I get anxious because my routine is disrupted and I feel like I'm doing nothing. I stop earning a salary so I feel like I'm not being a good parent or a good wife. I am full...

Today I want to share a cautionary tale. One that I am still dealing with, unrelated to my husband's incarceration... or is it? Well, it depends on whether you subscribe to the idea of gender roles and chores. There is where my latest 'adventure' began. I was feeling overwhelmed with work, kids' busy schedules, house chores, etc. Everyday, as I got into my car, I noticed how high my grass was getting and I prayed for no rain so the growth would slow down... to no avail. One Sunday afternoon, as I washed dishes (mentally preparing for the inevitable cutting of the grass) my doorbell rang. I opened the door and a man was standing there, accompanied by a 13 (or so) year old boy. They said they were going around asking neighbors if they wanted their grass cut (I felt like my prayers had just been answered), so before I knew it, we had settled on a price and the man and his son were cutting my grass. I went back to my dishes and the next thing I knew, they were done. ...

It feels like forever since I've had time to write. I have been busy beyond belief, busy in a good way, busy nonetheless. I have been fortunate enough to be working on Saturdays at my school. We have been providing workshops for the entire family including recreational activities such as swimming. It has been such a rewarding experience for me because I have gotten to know many of the students and their families and have build a deeper connection with them. I also get to bring my own kids (the little ones), who absolutely love it. My son gets to play basketball with other kids and my daughter is practically swimming on her own. A couple of weeks ago, for Mother's Day, we held a workshop called "Mindfulness for Mom." My awesome LINKS partner and School Social Worker lead the workshop with a group of moms and caretakers. They got to talk about self care and then they made scented sugar scrubs. The ladies walked away happy, some commenting that 'this is what I n...

Me, 1989 In my early to mid teens I loved Clinton. No, not the President, he wasn't President quite yet... not his wife and first woman to come so close to the Presidency (she was robbed!!!), nor the prison that holds my heart at this very moment. No, I was in love with La Clinton... pronounced 'lah cleen-tong' if you're Hispanic! The Avenue, where excitement lived, colors were bright and everything seemed like so much fun. It didn't have the greatest reputation and I was technically not allowed there, so that made it even more attractive to me. It seemed like everyone who was 'cool' was from La Clinton. It should come as no surprise that my husband lived on a street off of Clinton. He and some other neighborhood guys would DJ parties, performed at various events, created art; evolving into local celebrities. And he was my friend, mine. So I got to hang out with them!  Street Art, 1993 When I learned how to drive, cruising was the thing to ...

The following poem was written by my husband. I sent him a copy of the post I wrote by the same name. he was inspired to write this poem. He told me that when I wrote ' Gray ' I captured how he felt, too. He even had some of his friends read it and they were moved because they identified with gray. I feel grateful to have been able to use a painful moment to inspire beauty.                                          Gray                                              by KMT Is it possible to escape the feelings of a place where the feelings of the place is captured on the face? And all in this place pray for the great escape from the gray.  That sits in the middle of nowhere,  near the border of hate and despair.  The nearest town is don't care,...

Last night I heard from my eldest daughter that she experienced trauma from growing up with an incarcerated father. That she doesn't like going to see him because it is painful for her. I had never heard this before. Ever. It made me feel sad. And like a bad mother. Did I make a mistake in exposing my child to prison life?  I began to think about the experiences we had, the two of us. First, I thought about the fact that I was 20 years old when this journey began. My daughter was 9 months old. We were suddenly abandoned, left to navigate life on our own (without Daddy). As time passed and my daughter got older, prison became her playground. She had the biggest personality in the room, always. When we would visit my husband, almost every inmate would say hello to her. She would manage to end up with candy, chips, and other treats that were given to her as she visited and greeted people around the visiting room. Back then, the rules were not as strict as they are today. My daught...

I know, I'm about to say the most cliche thing ever... gray is not just a color but a feeling. There, I said it! Now I'm going to explain why I've decided to be Captain Obvious and talk about something that artists have long been capturing in paintings, poems and songs... the feeling of GRAY. Dannemora has been 'home' to my husband for the past 14 months. It is infamous for the ' great escape ' that took place a couple of years ago. This place sits in the middle of nowhere, near the Canadian border close to Montreal. The nearest town is Plattsburg, which has a college and is populated with younger people and features hotels, stores (WalMart AND Target), restaurants, and even a small shopping Mall. Dannemora itself features Clinton Correctional Facility, which also houses CorCraft . There are houses, a Dunkin Donuts within the general store, a gas station, a post office, and... that's it! This past Thursday I set out to visit my husband. I last saw ...

It has been almost two months since I’ve heard my husband’s voice on the phone. In the last letter he wrote, he told me that he would get his privileges back on March 11th (which happens to be my parents’ wedding anniversary), making it almost three months with no phone calls. I should be used to not hearing from him, but I'm not. The truth is that the last two months have been pretty unbearable. I have been feeling sad and disconnected, depressed even. When my phone rings, it never sounds like it does when he calls; his special ringtone has been silent. I keep expecting to get interrupted by an inconvenient phone call, one that I would cherish and appreciate. I want to talk to my best friend. I want to tell him how work is going. That things are changing so quickly I can hardly keep up. I want to share news about our five year old and how she's starting to read on her own, that she misses her daddy and wants to hear his voice. I have to tell him about our daughter who gradua...

Friday was a good day! I went to work and it was an unusually busy day. There were events taking place throughout the day, the students had lots of energy and excitement was in the air. If I didn't know any better, I would have thought it was a full moon! At two o'clock, we had a special visitor.  Congresswoman Louise Slaughter  (who I greatly admire for being a voice for my community) came to our school to read a special book. With her was the President of our School Board, Author and Civil Rights Attorney,  Van White , who wrote a book titled  Heroes . The Congresswoman would be reading the book to a group of fourth graders from the Boys' Academy. Among those students were the kids that have been participating in the LINKS Program . The book spoke about the heroes in our lives, everyday people that can make a difference. It also gave examples of what is NOT a hero... good point. The kids loved it. As the Congresswoman read to the children, they asked questio...

My daughter is turning 25 years old today. She should be happy, bursting with joy as her life is just beginning. She married a beautiful young man, who adores her. She is well educated and has a good job (though it comes with its share of frustrations). She is healthy and she is safe. But she is missing something. She had to grow up without being able to talk to her daddy whenever she needed a listening ear (other than my own). I can only imagine the pain she felt whenever she needed a daddy hug, the kind only he can give! But like a plant that grows in a room with only one window, she sought the light and she grew, in fact, she thrived. Raising her wasn't easy though. You see, this peppy girl; high school cheerleader, popular, with friends galore, would sometimes get really angry, at other times very depressed. She would cry sometimes and wouldn't tell me why she was sad. At other times she was happier than a dog with two tails! She was talkative and excitable. As a litt...

In 1988, Bobby McFerrin sang to the world,  "Don't Worry, Be Happy!"  Suddenly, my mom (Mami) had a theme song. She has always been the quintessential optimist and this song was a perfect match for her attitude. I was 15 years old and all the happy- ness  was a little too much. Mami would sing the song whenever one of us kids would get whiny or would encounter difficulty or drama (teenagers are quite familiar with it). Even though I am fairly laid back, I can get very stressed out about some things. Example; I was about to start working and I hadn't secured a babysitter. My reaction was to go into panic mode and then, here comes Mami with her mantra, "don't worry, be happy!" What she means is that things will work out- while I was busy freaking out, she had been making phone calls and just as she predicted, everything was OK. This type of situation has repeated itself many times during my life and Mami's advice is always to trust and not worry. S...