It's been some time since I blogged last. I haven't had much to say. I'd settled into the life as a inmate's woman and watched the time slide by. Things didn't change- there were the visits every few months, the thrill of seeing him, of kissing him, the frustration of limitations and rules, the horrid pain when I walk out those front gates without him, and the endless patience waiting for phone calls and letters. These are part of the endless sacrifice and compromise we women who wait for our men to come home make every day. It's become normal for me. So why write about it?
But as it has become more and more normal to me, I've found myself sliding into depression because I was unable to express the very real pain that goes along with this life. Mainstream society thinks that the inmate is the only one who pays for his crimes. No, we who love him or her pay too. And yes I know it's my choice, and yes the joy and love he brings to my life is still worth the choice I made. But that doesn't make the pain of living my life largely without him, unreal or excused.
But I am not writing today's blog to complain about my difficulties. Today, I'm writing because of hope.
I've been really down lately. It's hard to get up in the morning. All I want to do is sleep. I've had a ton of physical issues and illnesses that I know are brought on by my low spirits. It just seems so long until he'll be home with me and I get a little lost sometimes, thinking of the time span. But this afternoon when I woke up from a very long nap, I suddenly had hope. Why? Sitting in front of me was the shoe box full of his letters that I'd collected over the last two years. I've never thrown away one- I cannot bear to part with a word of what he's written to me. I'd pulled it out trying to clean up my bedside table and left it there. Now, as I woke from a sleep I hadn't meant to really take, I saw that handwriting and was suddenly inspired to re-read every letter.
So I did. And as I did, my head slowly became right again. The time stopped seeming so long until I'd be with him again. I realized with every word I read how incredibly lucky I was to find love at all in such a messed up world. How lucky, despite the challenges and obstacles, to find a man that understood me and adored me and protected me. Because that's what he does- every day- even from so far away.
Some people think that love is supposed to be this fairy tale where everything is perfect and all is happy, and as soon as the least challenge comes up, it's time to move on. That's where our society of instant gratification has gone. I know better. Love is when the chips are down and everything is against you, still being able to look at that other person and say "I love you no matter what. I'll always be here. We're in this together forever." It's being able to recognize that intangible, elusive emotion that drives humanity in all things, and that is the cornerstone of being an inmate's woman every day.
Hope.
For the women doing time alongside their inmates... This is our reality as well as theirs.
i sure know how you feel im in love with my husband who is a inmate. Days are hard nights are harder but i will never give up hope never
ReplyDeleteI cried after reading all of your posts. My boyfriend and I went to high school together and dated for awhile after graduation. We were only broken up for six months when he made the biggest mistake of his life. I found out he was in jail about two weeks after he was arrested and knew I needed to see him, to make sure he was okay. When he saw me, he said "I thought you were never going to come" and started crying so hard he couldn't speak. We had barely even spoken since we broke up, but in that moment I just knew I was going to be here from now on. Within the first month I ended up breaking things off with the person I had been casually dating before, and by the second month it just felt right to consider ourselves back together. The stereotypes of women who choose to be with a man who is incarcerated drive me crazy. I am not a foolish or desperate woman. I am actually a very intelligent college student who is well on her way to a successful career. My boyfriend is not an evil criminal who deserves to rot in prison with no one to love him. He is a very young man who let frustration get the best of him in a single moment. He fully accepted responsibility for his actions when he could have easily lied and was punished very harshly for it. He is 21 years old and was just sentenced to 18 years in prison. I am 20 years old and intend to be here for every moment. I don't know how he finds it in his heart to love me so completely when he is surrounded by nothing but hatred, but I'm so thankful that he does. My love for him is unconditional. Thank you so much for posting your reality, I was feeling very down today and coming across this made me realize I'm not alone. We're only six months in and have a long road ahead, but I know we will make it. These days are long, but they won't last forever.
ReplyDeleteMy hunny and I have faced great challenges, we met in middle school and decided to be togther then. As we "grew up" things got in the way and we fell apart. Both alone and togther. We have 14 months left of a very long sentence. I am not an uneducated, poverty stricken, desperate for love woman. I am strong, capable and independent. I am a masters level social worker who loves a man who made a bad decision. It could happen to any of us! There is hope at the end of the longest tunnels!
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