Days I expect to spend visiting with Carole disturb my sleep. This anticipation begins building early each week. By the time I lie down to sleep on Thursday, I’m already restless with enthusiasm. This morning I woke at 1:13.
I went to sleep before 7:00 p.m.. last night, so I had slept more than six hours. When my eyes opened, I looked at my watch and immediately began counting the hours until I would sit with my wife. The time we share together still feels like freedom to me, even if we’re only holding hands under the bright lights of a prison visiting room.
Since 2002, Carole has been coming to visit with me. In many ways, it feels as if she is serving this prison sentence with me. Prior to her coming into my life, I could easily pass through several months without a visit. Sometimes years would pass without my seeing anyone besides other prisoners or prison staff members. I had conditioned myself to serving time alone. That all changed when I linked my life with Carole.
We’re now into our eighth year, and we’ve visited regularly in six separate prisons. The life we have built together gives clarity to all I’m working toward. Early in the week, I contemplate the writing projects I can create that will add value to our lives in years to come. I try to document the prison experience by writing about my feelings, writing about the adjustment patterns of others, writing about strategies that help me grow, or writing to advance the cause for prison reform. My motivation for all this is to contribute to the world in a way that will translate into a career upon release. I want to provide for my wife.
With Carole’s regular visits, I don’t have to cling to some abstract vision of my future. Other prisoners who had established careers, families, and home lives before their terms began could expect to return to some form of stability. They know the bed in which they will sleep and they have some semblance of what life will resemble. My entire adult life has been prison, however, and I feel more challenged to envision myself in the world and living as a normal human being. The only ways that I know how to escape the feeling of being a prisoner include my work, my exercise, and the few hours I’m allowed to cherish with Carole.
After waking this morning, I wrote three blog articles. They took a lot longer to write because I daydreamed about how fortunate I felt. Soon, I knew, Carole would begin the two-hour drive to visit me. I prayed for her safety and thanked God for all of our blessings. I ran three miles, lifting my tally to 983 miles over the past 112 continuous days. Then I showered, dressed, and walked outside to watch Carole’s car drive in.
We enjoyed every minute of the nearly seven hours we were allowed to share together. I wish that we had more time, or that we could visit more frequently than once each week. Carole had to drive home at 3:00, and I had to walk back into the prison. I’d work through one more week, and the anticipation would begin to build again until next Friday’s visit.
I feel grateful and blessed to have so much love, support, and opportunity to contribute to the world. At the same time, I am beginning to feel more of the weight from so many years in prison. It really pressed on me when I had to walk away from Carole today. We’ll see each other in another week, though I resent the additional years I’m scheduled to serve before we can begin our lives as a normal family.
Friday, 3 April 2009
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