Prison Journal: Day 8,138
November 20, 2009
Before sleeping each night I read at least one passage from the Bible. I’m not deeply religious as most people would measure that term–I don’t attend worshipping services or participate in prayer groups. By reading passages of the Bible every night, and thanking God for the blessings bestowed upon my family, I strengthen my spirit. Last night, after concluding a book from the New Testament, I turned back to the book of Genesis to read the passage of Jacob, the brother of Esau. I wanted to read about his dream of the ladder.
That passage of Jacob’s ladder reminds me somewhat of this journey I’m on in prison. In Jacob’s case, he had to flee from his family and he was separated for more than 20 years before his return home. Like Jacob, I feel as if I’m climbing a ladder, with each day bringing me another rung closer to the top, when I’ll leave prison forever and return to my family.
After more than 22 years, of course, my family has changed in significant ways. Both my grandfather and my father have passed away. My youngest sister, Christina, has two daughters, one of whom is in her junior year at Florida State University, and the other is in junior high, but my imprisonment has rendered me a stranger to Christina’s family. My older sister, Julie, also has a family of her own, but because of the prison’s visiting and telephone restrictions, I only connect for a few hours each year. My mother lives in Florida and the thousands of miles between us along with the decades I’ve served, keep me on the periphery. My only real connection with the world is Carole, my wife, and although I take another step closer to her every day, until my release we must make the most of any time prison authorities authorize us to spend together. Carole has joined me on this ladder, climbing one step closer to our beginning each day.
In 52 days, Carole will resume nursing school until the end of 2010. If I’m still in prison when she graduates, I may request a transfer to a prison that will allow us to visit more frequently than once each week. Even though we’ve been climbing this ladder together for eight years, I can sense that prison is wearing on my wife, and we need to strengthen our connection with more frequent visits.
Before my visit with Carole this morning, I had a light exercise session, running only three miles and not following with any strength training.
[consecutive running log: 3,050 miles over the past 342 days]
Friday, 20 November 2009
Prison Journal: Day 8,047
August 21, 2009
This morning, I woke at 2:05, eager to begin my outline and initial pages for chapter nine of Earning Freedom. This chapter will bring me great memories, because it is the chapter where I write about the beginnings of my relationship with Carole. This is where our story begins together, and I’m eager to live it once again through these words. I wrote through page 373 of the manuscript this morning.
I ran three miles, then came inside to prepare for my visit with Carole. She surprised me by coming with Julie, my nephew Zachary, and my niece Sophia. We enjoyed a wonderful day together, with the children on my lap. I hadn’t seen my sister since last January, and the children haven’t been here in longer than a year. They’ve grown several inches.
When I left the visiting room today, I felt sad. It’s difficult for me to see the tangible evidence of how much time has gone by since my prison term began. Zach is now in the fourth grade, and I’ve missed those early years of his life. When I come home, he’ll be 12 or 13, Sophia will be nine. I miss my family.
I also missed my time with Carole today. Those six days we spend apart from each other every week really make me long for her. I cherish the time with my family, but it came at the expense of connecting with my wife. I’m at a stage in this journey when I need more, rather than less time with Carole. I’m glad that I’ll have chapter nine to write this week, as it will bring me closer to her.
My running tally, incidentally, is now at 2,231 miles over the past 252 days.
Also, when I returned to my housing unit after the visit, I received the most wonderful letter from a Mr. Holland, of Australia. Mr. Holland is a reader of my work, and he wrote how it inspired him to strive toward becoming a better husband. This gratifies me beyond words, and I intend to write back to Mr. Holland once I complete my manuscript. My writing energy goes to my work and the daily blog now, but I want him to know that I appreciate the kind thoughts he expressed.
Prison Journal: Day 8,040
August 14, 2009
I’m happy to have received a message from my wife, Carole, that my mom reads my daily blog. The Bureau of Prisons likes to promote itself as being family friendly, but the policies it enforces seem designed to isolate prisoners from families and communities. I’ve lived with those policies since 1987, and as a consequence of them, I don’t enjoy the close family relationships with my mother, my sisters, or their families that other citizens take for granted.
Those separations prompt me to write about this long journey. Many years ago I read the famous epic by Homer titled The Odyssey. The story describes Odysseus’ struggles in fighting his way home over a 20-year period. Although I’m not battling one-eyed monsters and other creatures, I wrestle with feelings of isolation, and conquer the loneliness by writing about the experience. But, I know that I’m communicating with a wide audience, and that doesn’t lend itself well to the close, intimate relationships most people enjoy with family. I’m too far at sea, and I’ve been gone too long to understand their daily lives.
I’ve recently completed a first draft of chapter seven for my manuscript, Earning Freedom, and those first 323 pages describe what it’s been like to grow through so many years apart from my family. One clear reminder of how much time has passed is my niece, Isabella. I cried over the telephone when I heard about my younger sister, Christina giving birth to Isabella. I was just starting my sentence then, and I felt sad, alone, because I couldn’t hold my sister or her baby. Now, Isabella’s in the university. I’ve missed her entire life, as well as all that has gone on in the lives of my mother, my sisters, my other nieces and nephews, even my father’s death.
The journey has been long, though it hasn’t always been bad. I’ve been blessed with privileges and opportunities that few long-term prisoners enjoy. I was able to educate myself, I’ve built a quasi-career through writing, and I built this extraordinary marriage with Carole, my devoted wife who serves this sentence with me. Yet, casualties exist in that I cannot participate in the lives of my extended family. Telephone restrictions don’t even allow for me to talk with others. I’ve adjusted, though I know my mother and sisters suffer without closer contact with me. I have to keep sailing home, and at most, I know I’ve got four more years to go. Although I’m far away at sea, I send a message to my mom: I love you.
Today I enjoyed a magnificent visit with Carole. I ran three miles in the early morning, and outlined chapter eight. My running tally is now 2,168 miles over the past 245 days.
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Prison Journal: Day 8,037
August 11, 2009
It’s now eight minutes past one on a Tuesday afternoon. Ordinarily I’d be in a small room in my housing unit at Taft Camp writing at this hour. Today I’m in the library, sitting amidst thousands of books, with the rat-a-tat-tat of typewriter keys coming from the adjacent room on my left. I’m not writing this afternoon because I’m contemplating. I’m wondering how different my life may have been if I had chosen a more responsible path as a younger man, or, at least, if I would have made better decisions than those that led to my arrest exactly 22 years ago, on August 11, 1987.
Today is an anniversary for me, an anniversary of imprisonment. Sometimes I wake up on 11 August and wonder where the years have gone. Not today. One reason for my optimism this morning may be that I know I’ve got 22 complete years in the bank. Another is that I expect that I’ll be released from prison before three more of these anniversaries pass. Either way, I know that I will not spend four more August 11 dates in prison.
Certainly, the 22 years I’ve served have taken a toll on my life. I don’t have relationships that are as close as I would like with my mother, my grandmother, my sisters, or their families. I wasn’t able to spend time with my father before he passed away, or my grandfather. I haven’t been able to build a career or accumulate the resources appropriate to my age. Still, the time has not been all bad.
During my lengthy term I’ve had opportunities to earn educational credentials, the privilege of building relationships with many wise people who became mentors to me. The time has given me space for introspection, and through my writing I’ve connected with tens of thousands. I’m blessed to have had the privilege of contributing to society, and I look forward to expanding upon those efforts going forward, especially after my release.
Another reason this anniversary doesn’t choke me is my current writing project, Earning Freedom. This morning I began writing at 1:51, and by the time I put my work away I had advanced the manuscript through page 315. Writing about this long journey through prison reminds me how much of the sentence is behind me, and I’m grateful that I’m nearly ready to emerge, successfully, happily, with an extraordinary wife who will help ease the transition.
I ran 10 miles this morning, bringing my tally to 2,145 miles over the past 242 consecutive days. Also, the running shoes I ordered last month were delivered today, so I look forward to my morning run tomorrow.
Prison Journal: Day 7,976
June 11, 2009
Today my younger sister, Christina, celebrates her 42nd birthday. I began serving my prison sentence when Christina was only 19, and my criminal decisions began before she graduated from high school. Those bad decisions I made led to my missing a significant portion of my sister’s life, and on days like today, her birthday, I feel sad and miss her very much.
Christina lives in Miami. She and her husband married around the same time my prison term began and together they reared two children. Isabella is in her second or third year of university studies, and Camillia is approaching junior high, I think.
Since I transferred to Taft I haven’t enjoyed much communication with Christina, or with anyone from my extended family. The telephone restrictions limit me to 300 phone minutes per month, and that time is not sufficient for me to cultivate family ties. I made the choice long ago to reserve all of my phone minutes for Carole, and that decision separates me from others in my family.
Christina and I had a close relationship while we were growing up. All these years of imprisonment have made me feel as if I don’t know her anymore. In my mind, time stopped in some ways with my arrest. Although Christina has been married for longer than 20 years and she has reared two children. I still visualize her as my little sister. I hope that our family can reunite after my release, but truthfully, I worry that the time I have served comes with irreversible consequences.
I’ll never be able to cultivate the close, family bonds that I would have liked to enjoy with my nieces and nephew. Those four children grew up without me playing much of a role in their lives. We visited only a few times, and sitting in a prison visiting room could not have been such a memorable event for them. My restrictions precluded me from enjoying holidays, family gatherings, or giving them a sense of who I was as a person, as their uncle. A close, extended family, I think, is one of the casualties of my lengthy imprisonment. I thought about my sisters while I ran today.
After 10 miles, I returned to the housing unit to edit. It is only through work that I can alleviate these feelings of separation. Tomorrow I will visit with Carole, and that will help. I’m also expecting to visit with my friend Lee, and that will be a nice treat.
My running tally is now 1,596 miles over the past 182 days.
Thursday, 11 June 2009
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