And so it goes ......

Back in October/November of 2004, I spoke of a dear friend who found out that she was pregnant at the same time that I found out that my daughter was pregnant. 

In December of 2004, I cried as I wrote that my friend had lost her baby.

In May of 2005, we found out that she was expecting again.

And yesterday, on a cool but sunny day, Nyla Nicole was born.

Today, as I write of my friend, the tears that roll down my face are tears of joy, tears of joy for a mother and father who have long wanted a baby to love and cherish, tears of joy for a baby who will know nothing but peace and comfort in the arms of her mom and dad, and tears of joy for grandparents who are welcoming their first grandchild into the world.   

30 DAYS and a wake up! 

On your end, when you don't call, it signifies movement away from the need to connect with all that you have held as positive for many months, all that resides outside the darkness that is prison.

On your end, when you don't call, you know that the darkness is dissipating, that your current space is better than prison, that it is one step closer to the freedom that is only 38 days and a wake-up away.

On my end, though, when you don't call, it coaxes forth the fear that lives just beyond my conscience, fear that embraces what could be, fear that a son will never know anything but the darkness that is prison.

On my end, when you don't call, the darkness looms, engulfs, strangles the hope that lives in the heart of a mom that is counting down the days to a release that she still can't quite believe is only 38 days and a wake-up away.

A brief update ...........

After several court hearings, Brittani's mom was awarded temporary custody of Destiny. The case is scheduled to go back in front of the family court of Niagara County in one year.

Paternity papers have been signed and sent back to the state of New York. Once filed, Robert will have the opportunity to file for full custody of his daughter. He has been advised to wait until after his release date to do so, though, and to be gainfully employed. Now that we know Destiny is safe with her other grandmother, time should not be an issue.

I am scheduled to pick Robert up in 46 days. He will be released to me at 6:30 AM on December 16, 2005.

Happy Samhain. May positive energy surround you today and in the future.

Must retreat ..............

Teaching 4 classes.

Taking 2 classes.

Working as a dean of a growing college.

Spending too few hours with loved ones.

Sigh.

Be well, my friends. I shall return.

Tummy Tickles

Robert,

Your daughter loves to have her tummy tickled.

And, when no one will do it for her, she does it herself and says, "Tickle, tickle, tickle," before bursting out in laughter.

Oh, son, you are going to be so eat-up with this child!

Sometimes

when I talk to you

or

when I think about your life

or

when I smell the smells of prison

I feel as if a part of my soul has been cut away.

Did I not say enough

reach out enough

love earnestly enough?

Sleep brings peace

sometimes.

But sometimes

in my dreams

your freedom dances

just beyond my grasp

and I wake

exhausted

from

the

chase.

Sunday night, sounding more like himself than he has in over a year, Robert told me about a girl named Erica that he is working with at the detail shop.

"She is really sweet, mom, and I love to watch her walk," he said.

I could hear his smile.

"Just keep yourself in check, mister. I want you home in December."

"I will," he said. We are just friends.

............................ But I sure like to watch her walk."

Boys. Geeeeeeeeeeeeesh.

Michele Candice Davis, September 15, 1951 - February 1, 2005

You are missing so much. That is what I hate the most.

I want to call you to tell you that your son is driving, now, and doing well (though he did turn right on red without stopping last week because, "The sign didn't say to stop first"). I want him to be able to drive you where you need to go like we talked about before you died.

Nick and Eli both have girlfriends, now - Amanda and Elizabeth. It is strange to see them holding hands and playing kissy-face, but it is good to see that they are growing up to be kind and loving to others.

I want you to be able to call Angie. She and Carlo have been fighting. I think they are working things out. Who knows. I know that she is a lot like you, though, and that you often knew what to say when Lisa and I didn't.

Sarah graduates in December. A degree in criminology finally earned.

Angie passed her test (in spite of a system that would offer no accommodations based on her diagnosed dyslexia). She is now certified to carry and use various weapons.

The grand kids are all amazing. Destiny is walking. Luke is talking up a storm. Lillie passed her hearing test. Alejandro just started soccer. And Andrew is in all honors classes for his first year of middle school.

So few months since you left us. So many new things you've missed.

Today, we acknowledge your death but focus on your life.

Today, we celebrate you.

My heart is aching, today, aching more than usual, for today I feel the pain from your sister's tears, tears that I know will get worse before they get better.

Your sister needs to be comforted, son, but you aren't here to help. You are never here to help. 

I want to scream at you, lash out at you, tell you how helpless I feel, how useless you are.

Today is your sister's third 12-hour shift at the prison.

Yesterday, someone attempted to jack-off in front of her, which means a mound of paperwork. 

She didn't get home until almost 7:00. 

The dishes were piled in the sink; her husband had ordered food for his mom, sisters, and brother; he told her to fend for herself. Her son had been fed junk all day, junk that included chocolate cake which was now smeared on her carpet. 

And her husband was showering to go out.

He left her alone.

It isn't fair.

She works so hard, makes so many sacrifices, tries to live a good life, and yet she cried herself to sleep last night, cried herself to sleep after being told that she is unwanted and unloved, cried herself to sleep only to wake up four hours later to head to a prison full of men who mostly think only of themselves.

Men very much like you, like her own husband, like so many others..................