37 and a half to life

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 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. ...