Still in Lockdown…

5/10/2011

Todays a better day then yesterday.  It doesn’t matter that I’m still in 24 hour lock down, I was able to call my mom about my grandfathers death.  I also decided to write my son a letter.  I don’t plan on him responding, but that’s okay.

Talking with my mom was nice and also sad.  I have a hard time dealing with my mom when she is upset.  It remindes [sic] me of a time in High school.  I grabbed her car keys and stole her car.  She stood in front of the car bare footed on the ice.  I remember her face was red.  She needed the car for work, but that didn’t phase me.  Her face was sad and she could no longer stand the freezing caused by the ice under her feet.  She had no choice, she could no longer block me from leaving.  She had to go back inside her apartment where it was warm.  I drove off not understanding how wrong I was.  I love you mom!

There has been some conflick [sic] in the family sense [sic] my grandmother past last year.  There’s one family member who wants to control my grandparents money.  She has no regard for my grandparents wishes and has taken advantage of my grandfathers weakness.  Growing up I never thought any family member would interfear [sic] with my grandparents final wishes.  The whole family had a good sense of values.  It was always good to do the right thing no matter the situation.  I guess the color of money has changed at least one of them at this point.

My sister (name omitted by typist) is staying at my grandparents house.  She is taken care of their 3 dogs.  These dogs are all brothers and should not be seperated [sic], their spoiled.  The dogs meals are prepared in 3 different bowls.  1 cup dried dog food, 1 can tuna, 1 cup warm water, and two inches of Summer Sausage cut into squares.  There is a place for each bowl, if they happen to become mixed up the dogs will not eat out of the other dogs bowl.  This is one of the more serious task in the house.  My grandparents travel to (place omitted by typist) dollar store for the tuna, (place omitted by typist) Walmart for the dried dog food, and Shaws for the Summer Sausage.  There is a time set for the dinners, it’s a big deal if your [sic] late.  God love old people!

I wrote my son (name omitted by typist) in hope of easing his emotional pain about the deaths.  I let him know that they both were well respected and great people.  I wanted him to know they were together for 60 years.  They lived in the middle of the woods at the end of a dirt road for 50 of those 60 years.  Their lives were consumed with each other.  His Great Grandfathers heart was broken when his Great Grandmother past [sic] on.  He was lost without her.  When she died it was the end of his life also.  I could see it in his eyes.  I let (name omitted by typist) know that Great Gramy [sic] is waiting for him in heaven with open arms.

It seems like my emotions are more extream [sic] while here in prison.  Issues that wouldn’t effect me on the streets, deeply effect me in here.  It has to do with the simple life.  While on the streets I’m running around working, drinking, visiting people ext.  In here is different.  Its like being forced to look within.  It gives me the oppertunety [sic] to search my soul.  There are a few things going on here that are exciting.  On Sunday we have chocolate cake for dessert, a female guard was working in here the other day, we all got new socks, one of the personers [sic] checked in a skinner, and I got an extra sugar packet with my oatmeal.  The things are exciting but, they do not consume my mind as the issues on the street do.  I think it’s a good thing.  Living simple for a while combined with my age of 36 and my experiences through life could possibly set me on the right track.

I’m looking forward to the future, education, jogging, meeting new people, working on myself while hopefully enacting some new programs here.  I have some good ideas that should be easy to accblish [sic] that will benefit the prisoners mental state.  But, I will discuss that in another letter.  For now I need to live in the moment.  I had to catch my speeding thought earlier.  I was thinking about a haircut, buying a dictionary, getting to work release, what I will do when released, ext.  I was living outside of today.  I want this, I want that, if I had this, I could do that!  The truth is once I get this or that there will be happiness for a minute befor [sic] I want something else.

I was reading an article on giving up on the idear [sic] that “more is better”.  The article explained how we live in the most affluent culture that the world has ever seen.  It goes on to say, we are 6 percent of the worlds population while using up almost half of the natural resources.  It goes on to say we should be satisfied for what we have.  But were [sic] not.  Not even close.  In fact we live in one of the most dissatisfied cultures on record.  As soon as we get something, or achieve something, most of us go on to the next thing immediately.  This squelches our appreciation for life and its many blessings.

From this point on I’m going to catch those “more is better thoughts” and realize if I always think “more is better”, I will never be satisfied.  I need to be happy for what I have.  I’m happy that I have a pen and paper to write with.  I’m happy that my mother still loves me and my grandfather no longer has to suffer with a broken heart.  I’m happy that (name omitted by typist) is my friend and I got two new white blankets yesterday.  I’m happy for the coffee the murderer that lives next door gave me, the fact my grandparents dogs are still together, that the juice at dinner time is extra consentrated [sic] so I can make 2 cups out of it by adding water, that I can yell out the door when I need a word spelled, and for the extra sugar packet that comes with my oatmeal once-in-awhile.

Don’t get me wrong.  Its nice to have things.  But, it seems with me anyway when I swell on “more is better”, I miss out on the true blessings of life.  Maybe living simple for awhile is a good thing.  I have wasted to many days in my life, I don’t want to waste anymore by fantasying how life could be “only if…”

Henry Jacques

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