Memorial Day passes. Yes...Memorial. A milestone, a memorial, another hurdle passed in the journey of my life. The last time I'll miss a barbeque on this holiday. Prison brings you many firsts. This year prison brings me my last.
I get to Christmas shop for my family. Wear a dorky sweater and mix a cold drink. Perhaps I'll hang some lights, decorate a tree. I can carve a turkey. Pass the potatoes and ask for the salt and pepper, please. All the things I've missed.
This place used to be my home. I came, I saw, I survived. Now when I look around I see a place where I no longer belong. Not only that, but it frustrates. When it does, a dozen times a day, I remind myself I'm going home.
Prison was never this hard on me. Even all these years. But only because I became a part. You have to if you hope to survive. I blended with the mix and instead of fight the tide, I allowed myself to be swept with the current. Now, as I pull away, I see the fight that takes place for so many here.
The anger. The frustration. These past couple months have tried my patience daily.
I try not be ugly. Still, at times when I see things I think to myself, "Yes--You certainly belong here."
The way people act. Their bull-dog mentality. If they ever get free, they will just hurt someone again. No lessons learned. Prison doesn't rehabilitate; you have to decide to do that yourself.
I struggle to maintain focus and not allow anger to creep in.
I'm thankful I have the love of my daughter and my people. I'm blessed this is the end of my journey here. I've been blessed with outlets for stress and negativity with my art and writing for this blog.
Once again, thank you for listening.
