Thursday, December 29, 2011
Tuesday, December 20, 2011
Victor
Tonight, I went majorly out of my comfort zone and conquered a pretty big fear that has made me procrastinate on seeing someone special. But tonight, I finally got to see this beautiful face for the first time in seventeen long months:
The process was intimidating and the dreary, rainy weather was fitting to the anxious emotions I was feeling. The walk from the parking lot was dark and dismal. I, at one point, thought to myself, "Watch, I'm going to get mugged outside of the prison." My slow and fearful walk turned into quick and anxious steps. I proceeded into the tiny entrance way where I checked my cell phone (yeah, I'll leave everything in the car next time), ran my purse through the security scanner and took a journey through the metal detector.
Upon entering the lobby, my first impression was fear of touching anything. The walls were institutional cream combined with institutional waiting area chairs painted in a chipping and graffiti covered green. I walked into the bathroom to grab some TP to use as a tissue. After one glance into the stall, I was grateful that I did not have a need to use the facilities. Again, still scared to touch anything.
I signed in, passing my ID through the metal whole in the glass and was instructed to leave my purse in one of the lobby lockers. I waited, twiddled my thumbs, thought about how I would feel after seeing Victor for the first time in a year and a half, whether I could handle being separated by glass, etc. Then the moment came; a female staff member yelled out, "Okay ladies." Everyone got up and seemed to know what to do. I was not expecting the pat down and almost decided to walk right back out the door. I even looked at the lady and was like, "I don't know if visiting him is worth this." At the time, I felt like I was losing a bit of my integrity.
Upon entering the visitation area, I took my seat next to one of the phones and chatted with the girl next to me as a I waited. She had just spent a night in the facility to the other week but her boyfriend has just gotten transferred there; he gets out in July. I was definitely not like the other girls around me and it showed. It's funny because in movies and television shows, these visitations always look so dark but the area was actually pretty bright. I could make out every imperfection in the paint surrounding the window. The areas where the paint had chipped off had started to rust. It looked much like this but dingier. The walls and stools were all painted this ugly dark green color.
Then, we waited. I saw these big and burly, tough-guy black dudes walk out and then finally, a very thin and fuzzy-faced Victor. He looked confused before he spotted me. He wasn't expecting me; I've liked surprising people :D One look at his face changed everything I've been thinking for the past few months. One glance reminded me of how special he makes me feel. How he's always loved me for me. How he does nothing but encourage me. How he never did nothing more than give me a hug because of how much he respected me. How much I enjoy being with him. How much I wished that there were not a piece of glass separating us.
I found out that I was his first visitor; my heart broke when he told me that. He's been in there for nearly a year and nobody bothered to visit him. His dad never visits, doesn't write, and has only answered the phone once when he called. I'm so glad I decided to write that letter back in January. I'm making a difference in his life.
I drove home thinking about how crazy I must seem. How does a girl who has never been in trouble for anything beyond a detention for tardies wind up clicking with a guy who's been in trouble his entire life. As I think about the changes I've seen him make, I become grateful for the craziness. I'm grateful that I'm able to care about him in a way that helped to give him that extra little push that he needed to get his life turned around. I'm grateful that he's been introduced to the Book of Mormon and the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints because he wanted what I had. I'm grateful that he meets with a spiritual advisor on a regular basis...and that he desired to meet with someone so much that he fervently fought and appealed the county prison policies in order to get a spiritual advisor.
Most importantly, I'm grateful that God has given me a big heart to look past initial judgements and to see people in ways that many others cannot. Others look at Victor and see a no-good guy who has been in and out of prison his entire life. I look at him and see him as a really great guy who spent many of his years lost and in wrong company. I hope he's right. I hope that he can win his case, and that we can see each other without a giant barrier between us.
Many people have been judging my emotions for Victor over the past year as unwise or foolish. Tonight, a very respected friend had this to say, "You deserve someone who loves you, treats you well, and makes you happy. If that's him, then that's all that matters."
I believe in the power to change. And quite frankly, someone who has made some stupid decisions in his life is more likely to change than someone who has spent most of his life just being a complete ass. In my opinion, this man behind bars exceeds so many of the male idiots who are out on the streets. You can send someone to jail for making a stupid mistake but, unfortunately, you can't send someone to jail for just being an ass.
Well, those are my words for the day. Just something to think about.
The process was intimidating and the dreary, rainy weather was fitting to the anxious emotions I was feeling. The walk from the parking lot was dark and dismal. I, at one point, thought to myself, "Watch, I'm going to get mugged outside of the prison." My slow and fearful walk turned into quick and anxious steps. I proceeded into the tiny entrance way where I checked my cell phone (yeah, I'll leave everything in the car next time), ran my purse through the security scanner and took a journey through the metal detector.
Upon entering the lobby, my first impression was fear of touching anything. The walls were institutional cream combined with institutional waiting area chairs painted in a chipping and graffiti covered green. I walked into the bathroom to grab some TP to use as a tissue. After one glance into the stall, I was grateful that I did not have a need to use the facilities. Again, still scared to touch anything.
I signed in, passing my ID through the metal whole in the glass and was instructed to leave my purse in one of the lobby lockers. I waited, twiddled my thumbs, thought about how I would feel after seeing Victor for the first time in a year and a half, whether I could handle being separated by glass, etc. Then the moment came; a female staff member yelled out, "Okay ladies." Everyone got up and seemed to know what to do. I was not expecting the pat down and almost decided to walk right back out the door. I even looked at the lady and was like, "I don't know if visiting him is worth this." At the time, I felt like I was losing a bit of my integrity.
Upon entering the visitation area, I took my seat next to one of the phones and chatted with the girl next to me as a I waited. She had just spent a night in the facility to the other week but her boyfriend has just gotten transferred there; he gets out in July. I was definitely not like the other girls around me and it showed. It's funny because in movies and television shows, these visitations always look so dark but the area was actually pretty bright. I could make out every imperfection in the paint surrounding the window. The areas where the paint had chipped off had started to rust. It looked much like this but dingier. The walls and stools were all painted this ugly dark green color.
Then, we waited. I saw these big and burly, tough-guy black dudes walk out and then finally, a very thin and fuzzy-faced Victor. He looked confused before he spotted me. He wasn't expecting me; I've liked surprising people :D One look at his face changed everything I've been thinking for the past few months. One glance reminded me of how special he makes me feel. How he's always loved me for me. How he does nothing but encourage me. How he never did nothing more than give me a hug because of how much he respected me. How much I enjoy being with him. How much I wished that there were not a piece of glass separating us.
I found out that I was his first visitor; my heart broke when he told me that. He's been in there for nearly a year and nobody bothered to visit him. His dad never visits, doesn't write, and has only answered the phone once when he called. I'm so glad I decided to write that letter back in January. I'm making a difference in his life.
I drove home thinking about how crazy I must seem. How does a girl who has never been in trouble for anything beyond a detention for tardies wind up clicking with a guy who's been in trouble his entire life. As I think about the changes I've seen him make, I become grateful for the craziness. I'm grateful that I'm able to care about him in a way that helped to give him that extra little push that he needed to get his life turned around. I'm grateful that he's been introduced to the Book of Mormon and the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints because he wanted what I had. I'm grateful that he meets with a spiritual advisor on a regular basis...and that he desired to meet with someone so much that he fervently fought and appealed the county prison policies in order to get a spiritual advisor.
Most importantly, I'm grateful that God has given me a big heart to look past initial judgements and to see people in ways that many others cannot. Others look at Victor and see a no-good guy who has been in and out of prison his entire life. I look at him and see him as a really great guy who spent many of his years lost and in wrong company. I hope he's right. I hope that he can win his case, and that we can see each other without a giant barrier between us.
Many people have been judging my emotions for Victor over the past year as unwise or foolish. Tonight, a very respected friend had this to say, "You deserve someone who loves you, treats you well, and makes you happy. If that's him, then that's all that matters."
I believe in the power to change. And quite frankly, someone who has made some stupid decisions in his life is more likely to change than someone who has spent most of his life just being a complete ass. In my opinion, this man behind bars exceeds so many of the male idiots who are out on the streets. You can send someone to jail for making a stupid mistake but, unfortunately, you can't send someone to jail for just being an ass.
Well, those are my words for the day. Just something to think about.
Tuesday, December 13, 2011
Saturday, December 10, 2011
A month has passed since I embarked on my journey back to the Eastern Standard Time Zone. Sometimes, Utah feels like nothing more than a dream. I replay moments in my head questioning whether they actually happened. Thankfully, the invention of photography has helped me keep a grasp on reality.
It's no secret that I was bitter about the fact that I was moving back to Pennsylvania. I didn't want to do it but I knew that it was the right choice. It's proving that way. I couldn't get a job for the life of me in Utah. After moving home, I found jobs quickly. I have two-part time retail jobs right now; turned down a full time sales job at Gold's, turned down some other retail jobs, and I start as a Therapeutic Support Staff in January. I've had the chance to deep clean my room, start "de-cluttering," and paint my walls. Now, instead of being plain white, they have just a hint of blue in them. I'm still working on getting rid of a lot of things. I watch Hoarders or Buried Alive while sorting through things. Reminding myself that enjoying living the present (without clutter) helps me part with the more sentimental (but useless) items.
I'll blog more later. I need sleep. Prepping for 53 hours of work this week.
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