Jason anticipates talking on the phone
August 30, 2011 6:18
am
On my way out the door (bars) and off to work this
morning, but I needed to get at least a short note to you.
There’s so much I want to say but so little time. Thank
you for your love and for being there for me, wherever, whyever! You can’t
know how much I appreciate you!
I got the fantasy info as well as the logos. Thank you.
You do know me well. Our draft is this weekend and I’ll be more than ready. My
Uncle sent me three fantasy football magazines.
I was waiting to hear from you so I’d know how to proceed
on the visitation thing, but you are steps ahead of me. I’m going to submit the
info today. Without you on my approved visitation, I can’t call. By the time
you receive this letter, you should be on my list, however, I don’t know what
you have to do from that point. I tried to call when I got your letter, but the
call won’t go through until you’re on my approved calling list. Still, I’m so
excited to talk to you!
Well, gotta roll out. Still much to catch up on. Your
thoughts are always with me and I love you dearly!
Love,
September 5, 2011
Hey Dear Lady! Yes, I am in a pleasant mood. It’s not a
million degrees, I can lay down without sweating, I’m full of beef fajitas, and
football is just days away! True, I’m still in prison, but that can’t be
helped.
How are you? So sorry about my sporadic writing this
summer. I promise you, the heat was just unbearable. Now (hopefully it doesn’t
get hot again!) I can get back to my routine of writing and sharing.
Tried to call you a few times but apparently they’ve not
put you on my approved calling list. I did get you and Uncle Joe on my contact
visitation list and since y’all are immediate family (Aunt and Uncle) if you
were to ever come see me, it would be contact. However, I don’t know what else
I can do on my end to get you registered. I guess it just takes a few days.
What a long three-day weekend! Whew! Saturday was my
fantasy football leagues’ draft. Wow! It was exciting, but I have worked my
butt off! It paid off, though. My thorough research kept me calm during the
draft and I ended up with the best picks. Fantasy football is fun no matter
what, but it’s more fun when you’re winning. I plan to do a lot of winning this
year.
I got: QB) Matt Shaub, HOU; Ryan Fitzpatrick, BUF RB) Arian
Foster, HOU; LeSean McCoy, PHI; Rashad Jennings, JAX; Daniel Thomas, MIA;
Bernie Wells, ARI; Anthony Dixon, SF WR)
Vincent Jackson, SD; Dez Bryant, DAL; Dwayne Bone, KC; Jordy Nelson, GB; Johnny
Knox, CHI; Titus Young, DET; Torrey Smith, BAL TE)
Jermichael Finly, GB; Jimmy Graham, NC K) Neil
Rackers, HOU Def/Sp) San Diego, Oakland
Yes, I did very, very well! I know, no Broncos, but I’m
afraid of the quarterback situation over there. Tebow has heart, but he’s not a
quarterback. More like a fullback.
Ha! Finally, it’s in the mid nineties and it feels like
heaven. This morning I cut my fan off. Too bad the hurricane is bringing us
this pleasant weather.
Glad people like the book. I just wish people would buy
it.
Carinos Italian Restaurant sounds awesome! Mmm, I can only imagine, but I’ll
have quite a spread this Sunday. I’m looking forward to it. Nachos, enchiladas,
stuffed peppers, chocolate cake and strawberry cheesecake. No weed, no alcohol,
despite the many offers, just food and football!!!
Ahh, my “father.” Can you believe after I was “nice” and
held my tongue against my true feelings, he refused to write back? Yeah, this
next letter will be all I’ve stored up all my life, and it won’t be pleasant. I
don’t need him. I tried, he failed and I get to get it off of my chest.
Well, while you can’t send me books, you could donate
them to the library, then I’d get my pick of them. My boss is so cool,
you wouldn’t believe it.
Mr. Moron… He has struck again. This morning, he dropped a
baggie of tobacco on the cell floor. You can guess that I wasn’t pleased about
it. That could have gotten me sent to solitary if an officer saw it. But
instead of jumping on him, I decided to pay to get him moved. 20 dollars, but so
what. I hate him. It’s worth it. This jackass has eaten or smoked all of his
food already. We went to commissary Wednesday. We don’t go back for three more weeks!
Tuff. I loaned him a bag of coffee and he bought cigarettes, so he can’t get a
crumb from me! Left pencil pieces all over the floor, too. Idiot. He hasn’t
bathed in days. He gets up, wets his mildewed cloth, wipes my hand soap on it
and rubs his arms, chest, then reaches in his boxes, wipes his crotch, then wipes
his face. Eweeee! Puts on deodorant, not antiperspirant, hair gel, and that’s
it. His sheets are brown and when I tell him he needs to bathe after being in
the dayroom all day, he says, “I haven’t done anything to get dirty.” Yeah,
because 108 degrees isn’t enough to get you dirty. Anyhow, he’ll soon be an
unpleasant memory.
Actually, the library has some of Wilbur Smith’s books,
but not the ones I need to read next. You know I’ll be grateful for anything
you send. Books are my great escape! Right now I’m reading Monster by
Frank Ferretti. It’s good and scary so far!
The librarian is waiting to get my book approved through
Huntsville before she orders it. The mail tramps stole the other copy.
Well, better get this in the wind. How was your Labor Day?
I know I’m forgetting to ask you something, but maybe in a few days I’ll be
able to ask by phone. Who knows how things will work in the T.D.C.J.
Love,
BLOG Revelations
Revelations.
No, not in the biblical sense, but as is directly applied to
life. Merriam Webster’s Dictionary
defines it as: 1) an act of revealing, 2) something revealed especially an enlightening or astonishing disclosure. Yes. Enlightening.
It seems to me that every day of my life brings about
revelations, some grander than others.
Some evasively slip past me, only to be captured in hindsight, but I can
see them and they have changed my life dramatically.
This was not always the case. Even a few years back, I wondered through
life in such a drug induced stupor, trying so hard to escape reality behind a
two or three hour mask that did not in fact, hide me from my problems, but hide
my blessings from my very own eyes.
Having come out of that cloud is probably … definitely the turning point in my life.
Almost immediately, a conversation took on a whole new
meaning. It was like I’d been looking
into a shallow pool, waded out further and into deeper waters where there were
infinite mysteries, things to see, touch, learn, accept. Things that once
brought me borrowed peace disgusted me and things that used to anger me made me
smile wryly. Things that I saw as lame,
because the things that I embraced as I pushed away the streets, recklessness
and destructive pride, things that I once cherished, once thrived upon.
For about four years, this prison sentence, this prison,
these people, everything, it all
infuriated me, making me bitter, resentful.
But when I accepted that my impending misery was the result of my own
foolishness, a burden lifted from my shoulders and much of the hatred
evaporated, leaving me free to move forward instead of wallowing in my own
self-pity.
Once my mom told me that she was glad that I was locked up
and that sent me into a rage. My ex-wife
told me the same thing and I couldn’t understand how they could be so
cruel. It was years later that I was
enlightened to what they meant. And do
to that revelation, I agree. I’m not
thrilled to be in prison, not at all. However, the alternatives were few and
grim. To continue on the course that I
was on, I’d be in the ground rotting or doing life without parole somewhere, hopeless.
So, yes, in essence, prison
saved my life. What a
revelation! Sometimes we have to hit rock bottom in order to look up. My self-inflicted wounds, struggles, trials
and tribulations have made me a complete man.
A few years ago, I was only a boy.
Not only have I been given a second change, I’ve acquired a
new lease on life, a focus and determination unrivaled by any other force in my
life outside of God. I’m away from my
kids, but I have a chance to be in their lives whereas I could have been just a
memory and a headstone. I’m not simply
alive, I’m building the foundation to live.
Trust me, I know the difference between surviving and living. Jason is going to live.
Every time I don’t react with hostility and violence to or
in an unfavorable situation, every time I take the high road, every time I smile
in the face of despair, I conquer the act of merely surviving. Instead of stressing, I count my blessings
then look to infect as many people as I can, to encourage, to guide, to
aid. To touch one person in a positive
way won’t quench my need. I want to
touch the multitudes. Perhaps I can
reach some kids, teenagers, adults who think themselves lost. Maybe by seeing my scars, they’ll understand
that the fire is hot without sticking their own hand into it. Revelations,
no?
