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March 27, 2011

June 28 & July 5, 2009 and my second Blog.

June 28, 2009  Late

Please forgive me.  I know I have been a horrible pen pal.  For what it’s worth, that is not my intention.

No excuses, things have been so hard on me these past few months, I mean, really my life has been miserable!  And I’m that type of person that doesn’t like to burden those special to me with negativity of this place.  And happy thoughts have been touch and go.  Fleeting to say the least.  I only request that you bear with me a bit longer?  In a few weeks, I’m going to another unit to begin rehab on my knee.  Things should be multitudes better there.

Rest assured that your letters, cards and photographs bring me joy, even through the darkness I’ve been all but consumed by.  J The pictures are great.  I love the wildlife, especially the rhinos.  Oh and how I envy you and your “wascally wabbits.”  How I long for life’s simple moments.

It’s easy to admire your compassion and kindness towards others.  You seem to be “Mother Earth,” providing for all of the children one way or another.  How refreshing to see you, your husband and family, so warm and close.  You provide me with fond inspiration and hope that my trials will soon come to pass.

I just returned from Galveston again.  That’s wearing me down.  Won’t even tell you how awful a trip it was!

This is just another short one, but I beg you to understand hot and unpleasant it is down here, even in the middle of the night, I’m sticky with perspiration and drained of energy.  Just know that you are on my mind every day and your good wishes are most appreciated!

Warmly,

July 5, 2009

Hello!  How are ya?  I really do hope that all is well with you!  I never can quite find the proper words to express my gratitude for your role in my life.  I mean, in here, it is so easy to feel all alone, be devoured by the darkness and forgo all hope.  You have no idea how your kindness and unselfish ability to share your joy helps to keep my spirits high.

Wow!  You and your husband have made me a part of your very very active and interesting lives.  One day, I too hope to live to the fullest as well, to be comfortable, in a healthy relationship and able to travel.  I admire what ya’ll have, deeply.

I must be honest; my life has been pretty much off axis since my injury.  It’s been one drama after another.  And all of the back and forth to the hospital has taken its toll.  The last time I went, when I came back, they housed me on a cell block for inmates  who can’t think for themselves, guys who are G-4’s while I’m a G-2, guys that are Line 3’s while I’m a S-3.  I know that makes no sense to you, but trust me, I didn’t belong down there.  G-2 is a custody level; “G-2” is minimal custody.  “G-3” is for guys with over 50 years, “G-4” is medium custody, “G-5” is closed custody.  The line class thing is more complicated.  You enter the system a “Line-1” and work your way up.  As a “Line-1” you aren’t allowed contact visits or certain jobs.  From a “Line-1” you go up to a “S-4” which is a state approved trustee.  Every six months you go with no cases, your line class advances until you get to a “S-2” which means you  are eligible for outside jobs unsupervised and all contact visits.  Any major cases you receive can knock your class and status down, then it takes you a year trouble-free to move back up.  Pretty boring stuff, but it gives you some idea of just how much I didn’t belong on a medium custody cellblock, especially not on crutches.  All types of nonsense goes on down there….from riots, fights with officers, fires…you name it.

My family has been kinda off and on, too.  Like my mom, she doesn’t write very often, so I worry about her.  But no matter how much I try to explain that, it doesn’t get through to her.  My ex-wife is still acting stupid with me about my kids, so I’ve not seen them. 

I’m going to send you a few pictures.  Unfortunately, I’ll need them back because I don’t have copies, but you are welcome to make copies.  (I hate asking for the pictures back, it seems so tacky!

If you’re wondering why I have so much time and energy to write, there’s an interesting explanation.  This kid got into a fight the other night on the recreation yard.  The next day his eye looked like he’d been hit with a sledge hammer.  His friends were able to keep him hidden in his cell yesterday, but today he popped out like he didn’t look like he’d lost a bar fight and the officers noticed.  So my cell block is on “lockdown” for 24 hours while the “incident is investigated” which basically means “less work for the officers…free day!”

So I’ve rested, allowing my mind to wander, cleaned up and done some reading.  Now I’ve written you.  Well, I better wrap this up and settle in for the night.  I’ve got a Patricia Cornwell book to get into.  As always, I thank you for your friendship and your kindness.  You have no idea the impact you have on me.  Hope you enjoy the pictures!

Like family,



BLOG # 2
                              Smiles

It’s 1:20 a.m.  It’s cold.  I’ve been writing letters for hours….I’m tired and I’m lonely.  The penitentiary consoles no man.  The consolation and rehabilitation is done within.

My writing hand aches, though not as much as my heart, so I write on.

Am I sad?  No.  I’m beyond the sadness.  Actually, I’m quite content considering my circumstances.  Incarcerated, yet that is life, for now.  Not all of me is here though, and my soul tickles my flesh to a smile.

I just got off of my good knee, saying my prayers, most of which were the usual, then many thanks for plenty of blessings.  These last few nights though, I’ve made an amendment to my prayers.  Towards the closure of that brief but sincere monologue, I’ve begun to ask God to touch my children’s hearts, just for a moment, and let them know that they are loved.

In my mind, I can see them smile slightly in their sleep in response to that touch.  Sweet, pure and so innocent.  It doesn’t matter where their little minds think the love comes from, just as long as they feel it.

And with those smiles floating above the stratosphere of my thoughts, tranquilizing the pain laden tumultuous clouds, I’m able to enjoy a period of peace.  I can crawl under my shabby blanket already warm, comforted by the slightest silken caress of my spirit, reminding me of the joy that was and preparing me for the joy that will be.

They’re still smiling.

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