We've Moved On

It was just about a month ago, the evening of August 7 to be exact.  Ron and I were coming home from our Tuesday night game of bridge at Esplanade in Solana Beach.  We were driving up the coast, which takes about 10 minutes longer, but one of our favorite things to do, so even though it was late and we were tired, we drove up Highway 101.  Ron turned to me and said, "I think I have finally put my 19 months at Taft behind me."  I was a little surprised, because I had noticed that he was talking more about his experiences in prison recently and I took that to mean he still had some emotional work to do.  On the other hand, I also noticed that he was happy all the time, relaxed and not worried.  This was a huge change.  For many months he would think about the fact that his probation officer might drop in unexpectedly on any given Friday.  He always had Friday in his mind as a day he might again have that gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach, the sweats, and general anxiety over the possibility of a visit from probation.  That is gone.  He believes now that his visits and calls from her will occur every three months, which we think is the minimum contact she is supposed to have with her clients.

She knows now that Ron is doing everything he is supposed to do.  He has several jobs which keep him busy (this is most important to probation).  He is fullfilling all his obligations and doing everything right.  Since she's been monitoring him for almost a year now, she has confidence in the fact that he is one of the clients that she does not have to keep an eye on.  The Fridays when she did drop in, especially if she gave him several days notice, were no problem, but the anticipation and anxiety that Ron felt about what she might say or do, caused him great pain. 

The weekends roll around now and Ron's mind is free.  He is not anticipating a bad call from a lawyer or probation officer or anyone, for that matter.  Sure, we still have the typical aggravations of living in the 21st century, like dealing with banks, health insurance, and cell phone problems, but these pale by comparison to what we've dealt with in the past 10-12 years.  It feels so good  get in the car with Pepper and drive to the campgrounds in Cardiff, go to Bull Taco for dinner, watch the surfers and the sunset, and appreciate the truly spectacular city we call home. 

We've moved on from the days of dreading what might come in the mail or  who might be calling when the phone rings.  Of course one never forgets 19 months of incarceration, but knowing that there is life after prison, should give others hope.  It may not be the life you planned, but it can be damn good.