Day 31

Sunday, March 5, 2000

For some reason, I feel alot better today. I don't feel as angry or as stressed. Maybe it's because 41 of my 49 cellmates are still asleep and not annoyin me. Maybe it's because I went to a jail church service last night and this morning. Maybe it's because I told my parents where I am and why. I think the latter is true.

Well, I told them and they don't hate me. Which is a plus. Were they disappointed? You bet. I knew they would be. Somehow, it wasn't as bad as I had expected. While it's never good to hear the sound of disappointment in my mom's voice, at least there was more worry and caring than disappointment. My dad didn't say much, but in a previous entry I talked about him and how he'd feel if I were back in jail. I was somewhat right, but he worries about me, too. I'm blessed to have two parents that love me unconditionally, despite my many (and frequent) shortcomings.

There are alot of things I'd like to talk about in great detail, but I'm on my last piece of paper, and although I ordered a new notepad from commissary, I won't get it for two more days. I'm not looking forward to writing on toilet paper, but I've come too far to stop now. Besides, I've got too much stuff to say!

Now, a little trip down memory lane ...

I remember summers when I was a kid. School was out and I was home with my mom all day, everyday. My internal clock would wake me early each day, and mom would already be up, doing something around the house. Usually, the windows were open letting the cool air in the house so we didn't have to turn on the air conditioner, a window unit that hung in our dining room. I would eat cereal, one of many brands in the cabinet, as I would pick a new brand with every commercial I saw. If I was good, mom would buythe new cereal, even if one of the other boxes was still nearly full. Dad spoke against this practice, but he was at work when mom and I went to the store. I remember playing Pac-Man at the little deli next to the beauty shop where mom was getting her hair done.

I remember going out and working in the garden with her in the cool morning air before the sun came high over the treeline, heating the garden. One morning there was a snake. Our collie, Ginger, bravely barked and ran side to side between the snake and us. I remember mom, scared, saying "Ooo! Ooo! Ooo!" all the way back to the house. I followed, laughing.

I remember her stern look when I got home after getting in trouble with a friend. We had gone somewhere we weren't supposed to be, and somebody had called my mom. She was stern, but fair, and it wasn't all that bad at the end of it all.

I remember her letting me experiment with making lunch, putting things that have no business being together on a couple slices of bread and swearing it was the best thing ever. I remember her laugh when I took peanut butter and chocolate syrup and tried to make Rece's Peanut Butter Cups. She told me why it wouldn't work the same. I thought I knew better, but she was right. She always is.

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