37 and a half to life

What a difference a day makes!  On Monday, the day after I was desperately awaiting to hear about my husband, I called the correctional facility. I asked to speak with his counselor, when I told her why I was calling, she transferred me to another counselor because "her computer wasn't up" (whatever that means). The second counselor told me that they don't deal with HIPAA forms. She transferred me to the medical admin. The woman who answered the phone didn't seem to understand why I was calling. She announced that she couldn't tell me anything, I felt like I was in the "Groundhog Day" movie and began to explain all over again. The woman finally said, your husband can sign the HIPAA form when he gets back from the hospital. I shook my head and took a deep breath before saying, "I just want to know if he's OK, now! and by the way, no one ever called me to tell me he was taken to the hospital." To which she responded, "so, how did you

Today I feel helpless. I know, I should be used to this; being married to a man who is incarcerated, who doesn't have a say over many of his own actions and decisions, frustrating as it is, you never do.  This is a new level and the worry is overwhelming. You see, I haven't spoken with my husband in three days, not unusual, but what makes this different is, the last time I spoke with him he was very sick. He was coughing, had shortness of breath and hadn't been able to sleep due to feeling so unwell. I had been urging him to put in for a sick call for days and he kept telling me no. "I'll just work out and be fine!" but I told him that we're in the middle of a pandemic, please get seen. Even my sister, who is a medical professional, gave him marching orders to get medical attention, he declined. Finally, last night (Saturday), I called the facility to see if they would tell me if he was OK. Perhaps he was in the infirmary or had been quarantined. I also ne

Drawing by our 10 y/o son March 14, 2020 was be the last time I would see my husband under 'normal' circumstances on a visit. Pre-COVID 19 might become the way some of us refer to life as we knew it prior to that date. Since my husband arrived at this current medium security facility in December 2018, I have visited him regularly. Every facility has a different procedure for visitors to follow even before getting in. In Attica, if we visited during the weekend, we would have to wait by our car to be picked up by a van, taken to the hospitality center where we would wait for our turn to be driven back to the main building and THEN be processed for the visit.  This particular facility has a different way. Upon arrival, the first place to go is the hospitality center, fill out a visit pass (which has a number on it). Then if you drove, you go back to your car and wait for your number to show in the window. At that time you walk to the building, get processed and (hopefully) visit.

2020 came in with a vengeance. My native Puerto Rico began experiencing earthquakes, it had been about 100 years since any such significant quakes had taken place, people were suddenly displaced from their homes, and afraid to sleep indoors, camped outside to feel safe. Then, only three months into the year, what seemed like the entire world just paused. COVID19 (a virus likened to the 1918 Flu ) was threatening our very existence, killing many overseas, the death-toll raising here too. Schools closed, businesses closed, churches closed, everything closed (except grocery stores and hospitals). Distance learning became the new buzzword in education. Social Distancing part of our vocabulary. "Don't wear a mask, wear a mask,  test only if you have symptoms, everyone should get tested, worry only if you are old, anyone can die, antibodies means your'e safe, not so fast!" I'll stay home, thank you...  let me know when it's safe! In the meantime, my college s

Everyone is feeling it right now. COVID 19 has taken over our lives and no one has been spared. This pandemic has catapulted the entire world into strange times. This invisible enemy, as many have called it, doesn't discriminate and is among us, making some deathly ill and barely affecting others' health. It may be inside me at this very moment and I don't even know it. That's what makes it so scary, so nerve-wrecking. So all we have to do is stay home. Those of us who don't have to take care of the sick or work at a grocery store or provide any other essential service... we help by staying home. I am working from my laptop; attending and running meetings online. All of the attendees sit in their own square, reminiscent of the Brady Bunch opening , it's kind of comical. I also get to facilitate the home or distance learning that my kids are engaged in. All of them (2nd, 5th, 12th and Sophomore in college) work on their devices and attend classes in the s

The dictionary defines 'false hopes' as confident feelings about something that might not be true. I can bet that nearly everyone has experienced false hopes at some point of their life. As I reflect on the last 26 years, there have been many moments of hope that later turned out to be false. From the moment my husband was arrested, knowing that everything would be OK and he would be released. But he hasn't come home, yet. In 2005, the Rockefeller  Reform gave hope to a lot of inmates. Many became eligible for re-sentencing under the new guidelines. Some were fortunate enough to go home. My husband held out hope that this would be instrumental in his return. He drafted out his own motion, a lawyer was hired to represent him and when his time came, he received a time cut. From having 25- life he now was to serve 20 years flat on the drug conviction. When he was re-sentenced, the judge made no mention of his consecutive sentences. So, for the next 4 years or so, we hop