37 and a half to life

Today, my only son enters his teens. Just yesterday he was a baby, now he's a young man!  We named him Justice because we needed some in our lives. The day I came home from the hospital with him I received a call from my husband. He was going on the draft (being moved) because he would be going in front of the clemency board. Clemency... what? I didn't even know he'd put in for clemency, and neither did he. His mother had written a letter to the governor and that's how he got on the list.  I knew that he was excited but there was also urgency in his voice. Usually, people have months to prepare for clemency. He would need letters of recommendation and other documents to prove his worthiness. I sprung into action, calling people to write letters.  Once he was gone to Sing Sing, where he would see the board, I had time to process the grandeur of this opportunity. I imagined him coming home within months, just in time to help raise our son. I was elated when a parole offic...

 This past Christmas break I spent my downtime putting puzzles together. My 20-year-old daughter Tweeted, "why did my mom get me a puzzle for Christmas and she just did the whole thing herself??? I have to laugh." So I was a little obsessed with finishing the Frida Kahlo puzzle, it was so pretty! As soon as I finished it, I took a picture of it and took it apart, announcing to my daughter that all the pieces were there (insert cheesy smile).  Later the same day, my sister's children came over to visit. I asked my eldest niece if she'd like to work on a puzzle with me. She said yes and I quickly grabbed one none of us had ever put together before. It was The Polar Express! We immediately started strategizing and sorting pieces but we didn't get too far. The next morning I got to work on the puzzle, convinced that I'd be done by the end of the day... HA! To my surprise, this innocent-looking puzzle actually took over the rest of my days off, and then some. Just ...

 With all of the insanity that continues to overcome our nation, no... our planet, today I choose to write about me. I know, it may sound selfish but I needed to escape for just a few minutes and tell a short story about a promise I broke.  It was July 10, 2020, aka, my birthday. Daughter #1 wanted to do something special for me. She decided to treat me to a salon visit, begging me to get a cute, shorter style. "Cut my hair?," I said, "but I made a promise that I wouldn't cut it until your dad got home! " She insisted and I agreed to "just a trim."  Salon visit day came, my daughter asked, "Ma, so what haircut are you gonna get?" I responded, "A trim, remember?" She didn't like my answer, she wanted a whole different me coming home that day. I understood, what daughter doesn't want to beautify her mother?  I put on my mask, walked into the salon and was greeted by the owner, who would be my stylist (salons were open at very ...

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...

Almost a year since my husband has been closer. An hour drive to see him is still nothing compared to the 5 and a half from before. This last year has been full of getting back to our 'normal'; regular visits, daily phone calls (that are longer than 15 minutes!), bringing packages, etc. With more interaction, though, also came more conflict. More interruptions in my day (that sometimes weren't taken kindly), more being in the 'know' at the home-front (more about that another time :) But also more conversations about how to get over those conflicts because, soon, we'll be under one roof (God willing!). It feels good to have him near, almost like he's here! And now, with the help of technology and of course money, we have found a way to get closer. So, a couple of months ago my husband called and announced that he had finally gotten the long awaited and highly anticipated "TABLET!" It was the cutest thing ever, hearing him talk about the feature...

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...

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...

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...

I can't wait til Friday. I can't wait 'til summer. I can't wait for school to start. I can't wait for vacation... it seems like we spend our lives waiting for something. When I was pregnant I would count the days until my next doctor's appointment because I'd get to hear my baby's heartbeat and it also meant that I was closer to meeting him or her. Once that baby was born I couldn't wait to lose the baby weight (which never seemed to want to leave me) and get to wear 'normal' clothes again. I couldn't wait to hear the baby say ma-ma and take those first steps. And so on and so forth. I hardly got to reflect on what just took place because I was already thinking about what was to come. Writing down my experiences has forced me to look back and to think about what has occurred and to process what is happening in my life as I am waiting. The waiting for me is the background of my life. As I am moving forward or standing still, no matter ...

I can hear Mariah Carey singing "All I want for Christmas is youuuuuuu, baby!" For the last month or so this song has hijacked the airwaves everywhere I've gone. Every radio station played it and every Christmas playlist featured it at least once! Resistance was futile, so this year, this song took over my brain... I couldn't escape it. I hummed, danced and sang along to it as I wrapped presents, washed dishes and even while taking a shower (usually my quiet time). The song grows on you!  And then... I want a hippopotamus for Christmas. All I want for Christmas is my two front teeth. I want, I want, I want... I guess that's the part about the season that I don't love- that's the Grinch in me, I guess! I think there is so much need in the world and we talk about what we want. I know, 'tis the season for joy and happiness and giving, but I feel so bad for those who cannot be with their families, and they NEED them. I can't help but to think ab...

Last night, my husband called and we had a lively conversation. He was in good spirits as we discussed the kids, current events, future plans, etc. It was a normal conversation and then he announced that he had to go. We said our goodbyes and right before hanging up, he said, " I'm proud of you !" Then he was gone. I sat there, phone in hand, thinking to my self, "how in the world, does someone like that exist in such a negative environment?" Actually, negative is putting it mildly. What I really believe it to be is TOXIC. He's proud of me. I should be telling him that I am proud of him !  For staying alive, sane, healthy. It should be the first thing I say to him every time we speak, but instead, he's saying it to me. Wow. He is in hell and yet he finds the way to, not only keep his own spirits up and stay positive, but to bring me encouragement. His actions speak volumes about his character. I have known him to share every last bit of a long awaited p...

When I began writing about my experience, my husband asked, "what about me?" "What about you?" I replied. He then admitted that he wanted to be "featured" on some of the posts. I told him I had shared some of his poems, but he wanted to write in a more direct way. It is very difficult for him to put his experiences into writing sometimes. How can you process something while it's still happening? Still, he wants others to know...  So a few days ago he put the following in the mail. He calls it "We Rise Above The Clouds of Deception" Meaning: We have learned to take our pain and turn it into the fuel we will need to move forward in securing a strong and positive foundation for our links to the future (children). This can only be accomplished by internalizing life lessons and blessings. They prepare us for upcoming trials and tribulations and give us a clear perception of the truth. So we see people and things for what they are and not for wha...

A couple of weekends ago, my youngest two children and I went to visit my husband. On that Saturday morning, I woke up at 3:30 am in hopes of having everything ready for our trip. I packed not one, but TWO pair of shoes for the diva, bathing suits for the pool at the hotel (kids need to have fun), meds, snacks, electronics, IDs, cash, etc. I got myself ready and, coffee in hand, headed out with the sleepy-eyed kids. We made the 5+ hour drive. Once we arrived, we sat in the hospitality center (a dingy, portable room, posing as a welcome center/waiting room). It was full of people waiting to see their loved ones. We were number 63 so we would be waiting for at least another hour to be let in. Thankfully, the kids were able to entertain themselves with my phone (they have lockers to secure personal items before entering the facility). When our number was finally called, I gathered our items; money for the machines, IDs, pictures to show my husband, then locked up my phone and car keys. ...

For the past decade or so I have been thinking about how I might turn this experience into action. There has always been something keeping me from being able to give more of myself to anything other than my family. Between sports and other extracurricular activities my evenings have been pretty busy. Throw in prison visits and other weekend commitments and that left me no time for anything else. Then, five years ago, our surprise baby made her debut. It was the middle of October of 2012 and she was the cutest little thing! Everyone loved her right away. And even though she was unexpected she was not unwanted, she completed our family. So, big brother (who was still only two years old himself) was thrilled with the addition and life was pretty good. Then, five weeks later, our world changed when he was diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes. It was the worst time of my life. Even worse than when my husband lost his freedom. This diagnosis sucked the joy out of me and I was suddenly drown...