Forty Fourth Visit To Taft

Friday was my forty fourth visit to Taft, and my mom came to visit Ron too. She hadn't seen him in several months, but found him looking well and happy. I sometimes lose perspective because I see him every week, so it was nice to have her confirm what I already thought. David was there too, and the four of us had a wonderful visit. The visiting room was rather quiet today. Many families are waiting until Thanksgiving to visit. Thursday is a free day, as are Christmas and New Year's Day. I will not visit on Thanksgiving, but have turkey with my family, then visit Ron on Friday. He is happy with that visiting schedule, as there's lots of football to watch on Thanksgiving Day.

Ron and I spent a long time talking about restaurants and food Friday, and where we will eat when he is released. We do not have the same likes and dislikes when it comes to food, and by the time we finished our conversation I was feeling really sad. He wants a burger and fries, a steak, a big plate of pasta, barbeque and an apple pancake. I want none of those things, except the pancake. He doesn't want fish, or Mexican food, or stir fried veggies or anything that reminds him of rice and beans. I, on the other hand want fish, sushi, good Italian food in small portions, or creative dishes in appetizer size portions. How have we survived together all these years, is what I started to think? Here I've been fantasizing about eating out with Ron at some of the new restaurants I have recently enjoyed (Cucina Urbana, Tommy V's Urban Kitchen, Canapes), and he wants to go to the Claim Jumper! There's got to be some way we can work this out.

I decided that when he gets home I'm going to give him one month where he will make all the restaurant decisions. He can have his burger and fries, we'll go to P.F. Chang's for the garlic noodles, we'll go to a restaurant of his choice and get a steak, and of course we'll go to 101 Cafe for an apple pancake. After a month of eating what he's been deprived of for the past year (it'll be 17 months when he's released) we will return to normalcy, I hope. He will choose a restaurant one night, I'll choose the next. Compromise. That's what we're all about. Ron said there's no way I can understand the feeling of deprivation he feels from eating institutional food for so long. For some inmates, to whom food is not important, this is not a big deal, but to Ron, to whom food has always been an important part of life, this is very important. Ron's right. I can't begin to understand what it means to not have sushi when I want it, or a burger when I'm in the mood. I think I was feeling so sad during our conversation on Friday because I realized we both had different visions of where we'd be eating. I was saying to myself, "I've waited all this time to be back with my husband again, and he wants to go to the Claim Jumper?" I fantasized about taking him to Cucina Urbana or Pizzeria Mozza and all he wants is a good burger and fries or a barbequed beef sandwich from Phils.

I only hope he doesn't go crazy and cause his diabetes to go out of control. He has worked hard to get his blood sugar into the normal range, and erratic eating may throw his blood sugar off kilter. I won't be a nag, he knows exactly what he should and shouldn't eat, and that he must exercise. I plan to have him around for a long time. That being said, he has one month to taste all the tastes he's missed, then he can go back to eating like a diabetic who wants to live a long life. That's my plan for him when he gets home, and I hope it's his.

After our conversation was over and I was on my way home, I got a call from Ron. He said not to get upset about our conversation, because when he gets home and back to a regular routine, all this focus on food will probably disappear. After all, we never had a problem deciding where to eat in the past. Ron keeps telling me that being incarcerated causes one to focus on things that in everyday life would be irrelevant. I do understand this. He's got one month of complete control with the dinner plans, then we're back to joint decisions.

I wrote this blog just hours after I had been at Taft, and as I finished it I wanted to delete it. I thought, how petty of me to be worried about where we would eat dinner 6 months from now. I should be happy that we'll be able to have dinner together. Ron has so much time to think that often insignificant things like where we'll eat dinner take on much too much importance. I hope after today we have both put the choice of where to eat dinner in it's proper place. Does it really matter after 17 months apart if we eat dinner at The Claim Jumper, P.F. Chang's or Firenze? I don't think so.