The Final Countdown

It's the final countdown...  I sing to myself in a 1980s rock 'n roll superstar voice. Someone asked me the other day, "So your husband will be home soon, how do you feel?" Hmmm, I guess I can compare the feelings I have to those I felt when one of my babies was soon to be born. My nesting instincts have kicked in, his going-home clothes are ready, and I am taking in every moment because once he's here, my life will never be the same. I anticipate an enormous learning curve for the entire family, though the details escape me.  

Life, as I know it, will change drastically in less than one month. My kids, who have never seen their father as a free man, may not recognize him without his state greens, the prison uniform he donned for nearly three decades. Will they believe their eyes when they finally see him at the front door? Every disappointment, every failed attempt to free him, will only be a memory. All those times we fantasized about him 'surprising' us one day... and now, here we are. So close we can feel it! 

His mother has never given up hope that her 'baby' would be coming home. Her positive, sometimes unrealistic, attitude kept her going. I admire her unwavering faith. 

In 1993, as his sentence stood, he had very little chance of ever being released. Having life at the end means, there are no guarantees. It has been a long, painful, sobering, experience, one that I would not wish on anyone. And I understand, as I prepare for his homecoming, that freedom is still contingent on whatever stipulations they assign him. We will have to submit our family to the surveillance of the state, and our privacy may be hindered in the process. At least, that's what I hear. 

So, how do I feel? I feel unprepared, I am scared, I am happy, I am anxious, and I look forward to the chaos and quiet moments. Oh, the places we'll go... so many firsts: first cellphone, first outing as a family, first camping trip, first drive-in movie, first road trip, and on and on. 

I feel hopeful.