no Goldilocks

Dear Tony,

First - excellent sermon. I am so proud of you for presenting such a good message about responsibility. And how very good that others took the message to heart and spoke with you afterward. That is definitely a positive event.

I do hope life is going well in your new building. I also hope you will soon be returned to the Y buildings, but I have to wonder: considering the timing of your sermon and your move, perhaps you are where you are needed at this moment in time? Perhaps you have met some men who are lost and need a lifeline back to shore? I certainly do not know, but I know to trust God and to observe and to think.

I am so glad your pain has been swept away! I know what a distraction pain can be, tempting dark negativity to one's thoughts. Ugh. But it sounds like you are back on an upward path and I am grateful for that.

Funny - when I sat down to write this card, I had thought I was going to talk about other things. Then I read your sermon and just let my pen write as my heart, head, and hand led.

Thank you for that path.

with my love!

straight on till morning

As Peter Pan told Wendy, that's how you get to Neverland.
But that is not where I was bound this morning.
As I told folks, I was off to visit my youngest brother in north Georgia.
But I had stayed in a motel overnight.
As I told folks, he didn't have a place where anyone could stay overnight.
But his birthday was coming and I wanted to see him.

There have been far too many deaths this year of those I know.
Since the sixth of July, five people in my life are no longer on this planet of sunrises and sunsets.
Since the sixth of July, I have lost three family members, a work colleague, and the father of a close friend.
For my youngest brother's birthday, I wanted to hug him at least once.
This was the first time this year that I could visit him.
This may well be the only time this year I will be able to visit him.

To visit him this one time, I drove for six hours.
I waited for more than two hours in the cold of a mountain morning before it was my turn to enter the security room.
I had fortunately brought a jacket and worn socks with my shoes.
I already knew I was not permitted to wear shorts or a dress.

I had arrived at 8:55 this morning, knowing that visitation would open at 9 AM.
After waiting in line, outside in the chill breath of the mountains, I signed in on the visitors' log at the security room at 11:16 AM.
By the time I entered the visitation room, the time was 11:30 AM.
"Count" was in full swing and I would not see him until after it was completed at 1 PM.
I sat there and cried.

I had hoped they would permit him to come earlier.
After all, he was the crew leader who had installed the new tile throughout the visitation center.
He was the one who had suggested laying the tile on the diagonal in the visitation room.
He was the one who implemented that design, brightening the space where families and friends shared time.
I had hoped he, and therefore I, would receive special consideration on this first visitation day this year.
I had hoped.

Eventually, when it became obvious that it would be at least 1 PM before I would see him, and knowing visitation would still end at 3 PM for all there, I determined to make the best of this horrid situation.
I had already bought hot wings and a sloppy joe sandwich from the vending machines.
I had planned ahead and brought my twenty dollars' worth of quarters in a clear ziploc bag.
I decided to go ahead and heat the food before he came out, so our time together would not be spent with me waiting in line for use of one of the two microwaves.
So our time together would be time together.

Of course he arrived in the doorway just as my turn finally came for the microwave.
The woman behind me held my place as I rushed to greet him.
Then he waited in the yellow chair until I could join him.
I sat in the black chair after getting one more hug.
I had left my glasses in the other black chair while I was in line at the microwaves.
More visitors were coming in and I wanted to hold our spot.
I had the seats we usually used for our visits, near the front and center.
It was good to be able to sit there with him and talk.

He had not known I was coming.
He had not yet received the letter in which I wrote that I was, for sure, coming for this first visitation weekend this year.
I had mailed it earlier that week, but Columbus Day had interfered with its passage to him.
It had not arrived there in time for the last mail delivery on Thursday.
He was surprised and happy that I had come to see him.
He was more surprised and happier that I had come to see him for his birthday.

I had surprised him with a birthday visit last year, too.
That had been a happier occasion and we had visited for five hours.

Our visit this time was not quite two hours.
I know that he prefers to not be part of the mass strip search after the visitors leave.
I know he prefers that we part just a little earlier so he can have a less-stressful strip experience.
When the guard announced that visitation was ending in thirty minutes, we began our goodbyes.
When the guard announced that visitation was ending in fifteen minutes, we stood for our last hugs.
Definitely plural hugs.
Then I left and retrieved my jacket.
Then I retrieved my keys and driver's license from the security room.
Then I sat in my warm car and drove away, drove south back to the main highway.
There I bought food and stopped just long enough to check in with the first niece, the peace Guy, the bff.
Then I drove nonstop back to my own driveway.
I checked in once more with those three who know and love me.

And I feel better now than I have felt for some time.

yupsy daisy

Morning has broken...

Umm huh. Where's the coffee?

Right here. You know what today is?

The last day of June, I think.

That's right, as per the calendar. But it's also a five year mark for me. This was the day my youngest brother was arrested. Tomorrow will mark five years since i found out he had been arrested and what he was accused of doing. It wasn't until later, at his arraignment, that i found out exactly how it went down, thanks to Grandpa filling in the details. Having been associated with the newspaper in south Georgia for so long, he felt it his duty to give me the inside scoop on news-worthy events. Whether i wanted such details or not.

I thought he had died in 1982...

He did. That's a different story, part of my conversations with ghosts. Back to this one.

(Takes a sip of coffee, still trying to wake up.)

As i was saying, tomorrow marks five years since i found out my brother had been arrested. It was a Sunday and the church i attended was having its Big Coffee Hour. In other words, we were all gathered in the social hall, helping ourselves to the fine foods we had all brought to share. So, there i was, happy as a lark, chatting to all around me in line, putting tastiness on my plate. La diddy dah! Across the buffet table, filling her plate, was the woman who wore hats, a woman i had spoken with several times, including at the women's group for the church. She lived across the street from the family my brother's girlfriend worked for, so we both had her in common.
So there we are in line, across from each other.
And apropos of nothing, she says "You know that girl Ann?"
"Yes, i do."
"She's dead."
"She's dead?" I had stopped in my tracks, no longer seeing the food before me.
"Uh huh. Her boyfriend killed her."
Incredulous, i responded "Her boyfriend killed her?"
"Uh huh." Standing still. Watching me, looking in my eyes.
"Her boyfriend is my brother!" Shocked, choked voice uttered the words.
"Uh huh. He killed her."
"Oh, no!"

Oh, no.

I ran from the room to the church office and called my first brother, in a panic. "Have you heard anything from our youngest brother?"
"Why?"
"I just found out his girlfriend is dead! I'm here at church and i was told he had killed her!"
"That may be true. He called me yesterday to say he had been arrested, but I was out and it went to the voice mail."
"Oh my God! Oh, no! I thought they had broken up! She had told me she had stopped seeing him."
"Well, they must have gotten back together, because she had moved in with him."
"Oh my God!"
Shock, shock, shock.

What did you do?

I left the church and drove down to the house, to see if any of this might possibly be real.
And it was.
Yellow crime tape all around the front yard, the back yard, the house.
And i had to stop the car until the sobs allowed me to breathe again.
And it didn't matter whether it had been an accident or not.
Ann was dead.
Five years ago tomorrow.
Which will even be a Sunday, again.
And i will visit my youngest brother, in his new abode, which he will have for the next four to eight years.

tryin'

I drove up to north Georgia yesterday so I could visit my youngest brother today. He is only allowed visitors on Saturday and Sunday, from 9 AM to 3 PM. I got lost (as unusual) and even went to the prison annex by mistake, but I did finally get there at 10:15 this morning. We had a very upbeat visit that was nonstop until 3 PM! Apparently, they are quite generous with visit length (though that may not be so on holidays, when they have more visitors than usual).
I had brought my $20 in quarters (the only money allowed and the maximum allowed) for the machines. He feasted on foodstuffs he didn't usually get: Buffalo chicken wings and cheese-stuffed pizza "bagel" with marinara. I had a pretty good chicken salad sandwich from those machines. Later, I got him some bbq pork rinds, an ice cream bar, and peanut M&Ms, then we split a Butterfinger. And we talked and laughed and talked and laughed and talked.
The really nice part? We were actually IN each other's company, for the first time since June of 2007. We were allowed to hug when he came in and before we parted, which was very nice. During the visit, I could reach over and touch his hand whenever I wanted. It was so much nicer than visiting through the reinforced glass window when he was incarcerated here in the county jail.
At the prison, visitation is held in one large room, with chairs set up in various groupings. Prisoners are allowed up to three approved visitors at a time. If there were three visiting, they would sit in a grouping of three chairs across from a tiny plastic table and a single chair for the prisoner, for example. The guards walk around while everyone is visiting, but really leave you alone. And all of the groups are good about keeping their conversations at a decent level so they aren't obtrusive to an adjacent group. Prisoners are to remain seated at all times, but visitors are free to go to the vending machines and microwaves.
Visitors are not allowed to bring anything into the visitation area except the $20 in quarters. If you wear glasses, you cannot bring the glasses case, for example. No purses, no photo books (I tried to bring one of mine and had to take it back out to the car and start the entrance process again). Your driver's license and keys are kept at the guard station and you are given a visitor ID badge and a numbered disc to regain your license and keys when you leave. They did allow me to wear my scarf during the visit, but that may have been an exception. My jacket had to be hung outside the visitation area and retrieved when I left.
ONLY approved visitors are allowed. NO ONE CAN JUST DRIVE UP AND VISIT. You must first fill out the two-page application to become a visitor, an application which grants the prison the right to run a background check on you. That takes about ten to twelve weeks to be processed. At the end of that period, you may call and see if your background check made you eligible to visit - they won't contact you about the result. Once the background check is complete and you are approved, it is then up to the inmate to place your name on his visitation list. He is ONLY allowed to do so twice a year, in May and in November. So, I have let all know about this process so they can take the steps NOW if they would like to visit him this summer.
The prison is about six hours from Savannah, depending on traffic around Atlanta and McDonough and Macon. I actually made it home in 5 1/2 hours today, as there was hardly any traffic once I was clear of Atlanta. Last night I stayed in Rome, which is less than an hour from the prison.
My brother was in great spirits and had even had a haircut on Monday to get ready for the visit. The prison had finally granted his repeated request for a new uniform to wear and new boots, so he was quite pleased at that. (The uniform and boots he's been wearing since late summer were paint-splotched from a paint detail he was allowed to participate in prior to an inspection of the prison.) He really looked GOOD and not at all like that horrid picture on the GA Dept of Corrections website. THAT did my heart good - I truly hadn't known what to expect. But his skin looks great, since it hasn't been ravaged by alcohol or other drugs in years now, and his eyes sparkle. When I first saw him, I reflexively greeted him with his childhood nickname and gave him a big hug! I told him, later, that I could see the young brother I had several decades ago,the young brother who had gone on to make such a bad series of choices in his life.
Away from the substances and people who had influenced his past life, he has been working hard to forge a new path, to make good decisions with a clear mind. He's even been taking classes for his GED and has been doing well in all of them, scoring in the 90's on the practice tests. He has a goal, a program of study he wants to enter, and the attainment of his GED is the next step toward that goal. I know my grandfather is quite proud of him, as am I.
Why? He is making positive choices, choices to benefit others, not just himself. He could choose to continue with drugs - they're as available in prison as they are on the streets outside your door - but he is consciously deciding to distance himself from those substances and the people who deal them and take them. I would like to think his son, now approaching thirty, might choose to make those same decisions, to learn from the mistakes of his father, to consider the effect of his choices on the lives of his children. Time will tell.

lady in red

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Thank you!