37 and a half to life

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...