Dedicated to my husband, Ed. He is always there for me, but lately a lot has gone down that I have needed his support to endure. As always, he has been there without fail. I wrote this a year or so ago for him. It was an award winner in a Blue Mountain contest....but the REAL Award Winner is Eddie.
Every moment with you…
I love.
After twenty years and more,
Every moment with you,
I love.
I love the shining gladness
In your eyes
When we have been apart and
Come together.
I love the lilt in your voice
When you answer the phone
And know it is me.
I love reaching over
With a hand or a foot
To feel your warmth
Beside me in bed.
I love that I can talk to you
About anything,
Anything at all,
And you listen.
I love that you think,
Really think,
When something is
Important to me,
And you try to answer
Honestly, and without
Judgement.
I love that I can trust you
With anything,
Even immaterial things,
With things of the spirit
And soul,
With secrets of the past,
With anything at all.
Every moment with you,
I love.
Thank You, Papa God, for giving me this man.
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
Jailhouse Apathy in Hypothetical? Dialogue
Jill shifted uncomfortably on the bench. She felt humiliated and embarrassed here. She felt dirty here. She glanced toward her grown daughter beside her.
"I can't stand this."
"I know, Mom."
"This is not who we are! Not who our family is!"
"I know, Mom."
Jill glanced around at the people lining the walls, filling up the few hard benches, leaned against the walls. She could not believe how many children were running around the place.
"Can't believe they bring kids in here! Aren't they ashamed??"
"Shhh! Mom, they'll hear you!"
"Ought to just have a playground outside. Seems like this is a family outing!"
"Shhhh!"
"Well they do! They act like it is a social gathering!"
"Mom...for some of them...it probably is a pretty regular habit."
Jill hushed. She glanced at her watch. She did a double take. She looked again.
"The sign said visiting hours were at 5:00! It is 5:30!"
"Yup, an' apt to be six afore they git here." The skinny woman in blue jeans sitting on the next bench spoke for the first time.
"What?"
"Man opens the door...sometimes he don't git here til six, sometimes seven."
"Then why does the sign say 5:00???"
The woman shrugged, resigned. She flipped her shoulder length brittle gray hair over a bony shoulder. "He works sommers else first. Don't git off til nearly six."
"Well then they need to change their information posted!"
The woman shrugged again. "What list you on?"
"What??"
"What list you on?"
"To get in? Is there more than one? I don't know...maybe I need to check and see if I got on the right one!"
"Nah. They just put out one at a time. What time you get here?"
"4:30"
"You probably on the first list. You'll git in soon's he gets here and they git em downstairs. Unless yours on lock down. Good thing."
"Why?"
"Cause you git on the second or third list, it is apt to be 9:00 fore you git in."
"WHAT? The visiting times are in fifteen minute increments. That can't be right! Second list should be 5:15!"
"Ain't how it is. They bring em down when they want. An' sometimes they let one bunch visit nearly a hour. Depends on whose in it."
"What???"
The gray haired woman shrugged again. "That's how it is."
Jill looked incredulously at her. The woman looked like she knew what she was talking about. Jill didn't know whether to be incredulous that this woman seemed so well acquainted with the foreign environment, or incredulous that apparently a government institution had such disregard for the public.
"Then someone needs to talk to the jailer!"
"Good luck findin' him. I been comin' here fer nigh on six months. Ain't seen him yet. An' the rest of em ain't gonna talk to you either."
"Isn't this an ELECTED position??"
The woman shrugged.
Jill went to the restroom off the waiting area. There was no toilet paper. She returned to her daughter in a huff.
"NOT ONLY was there no toilet paper...there was not even an empty roll! NOR was there even any sign there had ever been a place to hang one! This is absolutely RIDICULOUS!"
The gray haired woman smiled faintly.
Jill watched another couple, who looked like they were a bit "better calibur" enter the waiting area, looking around uneasily. She felt for them. She understood quite well how "dirty" this entire experience felt to them. She could strangle her own son for putting her through this.
The couple stopped, and spotting Jill, apparently seeing in her "one of their own" asked, "Is this where we wait to see a prisoner?"
"Yes. But you need to sign the list over there..."
"Thanks."
They did, and came back to stand uneasily against the wall. The woman turned to her.
"We drove over two hundred miles...and thought we would never find this place!"
Jill nodded.
"There is no website, nothing! We tried to call, and couldn't get anyone to answer the phone."
"I know. If I had not had someone in town who could come up here and find the posted hours, I would not know when to be here either."
"And we sent a money order here so our son could have commissary, and he wrote us he never got it!"
A well endowed woman with bleached blonde hair and two inches of dark roots spoke up.
"You cain't do that. Got to be a postal money order, got to be made out right." She stabbed at the bulletin board with one thumb. "Ain't just like that, exactly like that...you can ferget it. An' don't go makin' it out for more than twenty bucks a week neither, cause they jus take it an' you don't git it back neither. All you can have at one time."
"But we live two hundred miles away!"
The bleached blonde shrugged.
"He said he wanted something to read, so we brought him some books..."
"Won't let him have 'em."
"What??"
"Won't let him have 'em. Gotta be new books, sent straight from a bookstore or somethin in the mail."
"Not even a Bible????"
"Nothin'"
"He said he hadn't even had clean underwear since he has been here!"
The gray haired woman stifled a laugh. "Nope. Ain't gonna have either unless you give him money to buy underwear at their prices in the commissary! You can't wash what he's already got and bring it in. They run the store!"
Jill gasped. The couple who had driven two hundred miles looked horrified...."What???" the woman fairly strangled trying to grasp this new reality. She swallowed hard. "What...what about people who live as far away as we do? And...and...what about the ones in here that don't have anyone to make sure they have just...well...just basic things??"
The gray haired woman shrugged and looked bemused at the folks who didn't seem to grasp that this was "how it was."
Jill looked at her daughter. "This isn't right!!!"
"Well, Mom. They're prisoners."
"Yes, but WE aren't!!! WE didn't do anything wrong!!!"
Her daughter shrugged.
"I can't stand this."
"I know, Mom."
"This is not who we are! Not who our family is!"
"I know, Mom."
Jill glanced around at the people lining the walls, filling up the few hard benches, leaned against the walls. She could not believe how many children were running around the place.
"Can't believe they bring kids in here! Aren't they ashamed??"
"Shhh! Mom, they'll hear you!"
"Ought to just have a playground outside. Seems like this is a family outing!"
"Shhhh!"
"Well they do! They act like it is a social gathering!"
"Mom...for some of them...it probably is a pretty regular habit."
Jill hushed. She glanced at her watch. She did a double take. She looked again.
"The sign said visiting hours were at 5:00! It is 5:30!"
"Yup, an' apt to be six afore they git here." The skinny woman in blue jeans sitting on the next bench spoke for the first time.
"What?"
"Man opens the door...sometimes he don't git here til six, sometimes seven."
"Then why does the sign say 5:00???"
The woman shrugged, resigned. She flipped her shoulder length brittle gray hair over a bony shoulder. "He works sommers else first. Don't git off til nearly six."
"Well then they need to change their information posted!"
The woman shrugged again. "What list you on?"
"What??"
"What list you on?"
"To get in? Is there more than one? I don't know...maybe I need to check and see if I got on the right one!"
"Nah. They just put out one at a time. What time you get here?"
"4:30"
"You probably on the first list. You'll git in soon's he gets here and they git em downstairs. Unless yours on lock down. Good thing."
"Why?"
"Cause you git on the second or third list, it is apt to be 9:00 fore you git in."
"WHAT? The visiting times are in fifteen minute increments. That can't be right! Second list should be 5:15!"
"Ain't how it is. They bring em down when they want. An' sometimes they let one bunch visit nearly a hour. Depends on whose in it."
"What???"
The gray haired woman shrugged again. "That's how it is."
Jill looked incredulously at her. The woman looked like she knew what she was talking about. Jill didn't know whether to be incredulous that this woman seemed so well acquainted with the foreign environment, or incredulous that apparently a government institution had such disregard for the public.
"Then someone needs to talk to the jailer!"
"Good luck findin' him. I been comin' here fer nigh on six months. Ain't seen him yet. An' the rest of em ain't gonna talk to you either."
"Isn't this an ELECTED position??"
The woman shrugged.
Jill went to the restroom off the waiting area. There was no toilet paper. She returned to her daughter in a huff.
"NOT ONLY was there no toilet paper...there was not even an empty roll! NOR was there even any sign there had ever been a place to hang one! This is absolutely RIDICULOUS!"
The gray haired woman smiled faintly.
Jill watched another couple, who looked like they were a bit "better calibur" enter the waiting area, looking around uneasily. She felt for them. She understood quite well how "dirty" this entire experience felt to them. She could strangle her own son for putting her through this.
The couple stopped, and spotting Jill, apparently seeing in her "one of their own" asked, "Is this where we wait to see a prisoner?"
"Yes. But you need to sign the list over there..."
"Thanks."
They did, and came back to stand uneasily against the wall. The woman turned to her.
"We drove over two hundred miles...and thought we would never find this place!"
Jill nodded.
"There is no website, nothing! We tried to call, and couldn't get anyone to answer the phone."
"I know. If I had not had someone in town who could come up here and find the posted hours, I would not know when to be here either."
"And we sent a money order here so our son could have commissary, and he wrote us he never got it!"
A well endowed woman with bleached blonde hair and two inches of dark roots spoke up.
"You cain't do that. Got to be a postal money order, got to be made out right." She stabbed at the bulletin board with one thumb. "Ain't just like that, exactly like that...you can ferget it. An' don't go makin' it out for more than twenty bucks a week neither, cause they jus take it an' you don't git it back neither. All you can have at one time."
"But we live two hundred miles away!"
The bleached blonde shrugged.
"He said he wanted something to read, so we brought him some books..."
"Won't let him have 'em."
"What??"
"Won't let him have 'em. Gotta be new books, sent straight from a bookstore or somethin in the mail."
"Not even a Bible????"
"Nothin'"
"He said he hadn't even had clean underwear since he has been here!"
The gray haired woman stifled a laugh. "Nope. Ain't gonna have either unless you give him money to buy underwear at their prices in the commissary! You can't wash what he's already got and bring it in. They run the store!"
Jill gasped. The couple who had driven two hundred miles looked horrified...."What???" the woman fairly strangled trying to grasp this new reality. She swallowed hard. "What...what about people who live as far away as we do? And...and...what about the ones in here that don't have anyone to make sure they have just...well...just basic things??"
The gray haired woman shrugged and looked bemused at the folks who didn't seem to grasp that this was "how it was."
Jill looked at her daughter. "This isn't right!!!"
"Well, Mom. They're prisoners."
"Yes, but WE aren't!!! WE didn't do anything wrong!!!"
Her daughter shrugged.
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