Phase Two-Week Nine

This is the last week of phase two. This is the last week that Ron will fill out his weekly schedule detailing where he will be, with names and addresses of where he will be, every hour of the week. It will be the last week that someone comes by the house randomly to makes sure he is here if he's supposed to be, the last week that he'll be called multiple times in the middle of the night, and the last week that he'll be asked to come take a drug test. We both look forward to Friday, October 7, the day Ron will go early in the morning to get his release papers.

While Ron was at Taft, his favorite time of day was the half hour or so that he showered. This was really the only time he was truly alone. Walking on the track might start as a solitary activity, but soon there would be others who wanted to walk and talk. He might lie in his bunk in the afternoon alone, but there were always people nearby, noise (music or talking) and light. The shower was his escape, and he mentioned to me last week that every day when he takes a shower, he thinks of Taft. Those thoughts that he has while showering will take a long time to fade. They're not bad thoughts, but just reminders of how shower time was his thinking time at Taft. That's when he'd do the math. He'd figure out how many more days he would be there, how many days he'd already been there, and sometimes figure hours and minutes as well. Shower time was HIS time alone. Today he can be alone whenever he wants, but the shower is the time that brings back memories of Taft.

There are definitely bumps in the road at this stage in our journey. Ron finds it hard not to forget what he had prior to 2003 and where he is now. He accepts all this, enjoys each day as it comes, and looks forward, but there are always reminders of the past. Forgetting and forgiving people that wanted to distance themselves from him during his ordeal is most difficult to get past. Time does not heal all wounds, but some of the hurt will fade. It's hard to forgive those that were around for the good times, then vanished when the going got rough.

It's also difficult not to be cynical about the judicial system. Only when you've gone through the process do you understand the "justice system." When Ron tells stories about overagressive procecutors and relentless pursuit of the government to get someone, most people are shocked. They almost don't believe it. We are taught to believe that America is the land of the free and that we have the greatest justice system in the world. Until you've experienced it first hand you may believe this, but after going through, your beliefs will change.

It's behind us now, and we're ready for phase three. I'll start writing about that next week. That is when our day to day lives will get back to "normal." I'll let you know how that goes.

Phase Two-Week Eight

I haven't crossed out the dates on the calendar since Ron came home, but with just 11 days of home confinement left, I find myself again counting down the days. It's different, though. I used to get up each morning, look at the calendar, count how many days it was until I would see Ron again, then count the weeks and months until his release. Now I just think about the day that we don't get a 3am wake up call. Ron is very understanding about accountability and takes it all in stride. They could call him in the middle of the night and tell him he has to come take a drug test in the morning. I find that a bit harassing, but he understands how the system work.

My mother is coming to visit on Wednesday, and David is coming on Friday. Since Ron can't travel out of the Southern District, these visits are looked forward to with great anticipation. We both look forward to the day we can go to Los Angeles, and hopefully Colorado, to see our children and grandchildren. That will be part of Phase Three, which begins October 7.

Overall I think we have made a good adjustment to Ron's return. After October 7 things will change a little. He will no longer be accountable on an hour by hour basis, no one will be calling to see what he's doing, and he will be working more. Hopefully he will be umpiring on the weekends. No more having to be home at 8pm.

Ron's counselor at the halfway house has been very helpful. She has a huge case load, yet she has been there for him and helped him get through this process as painlessly as possible. Although it took some time, she finally got him excused from the Lifestyles class. She has been great.

Ron continues to think about his friends at Taft and wonders what they are doing. A day rarely goes by that he doesn't tell a story about one of the men he met there. I keep thinking of what Ron was told by so many people who have been incarcerated, and that was that after you're home, you'll forget everything and everyone. I see Ron, how he talks about the men that are still there and wonder how men do that. How do you walk away from 19 months of day in, day out living together, and never think of these people again? He can't do it, and I don't think he'd want to do it.

I went to LA about 2 weeks ago when Phil and his family came to town. I was just there for the day, but it was the first time in 6 weeks I had made the drive up there. I felt funny driving there, knowing that that would be the furthest point of my trip. I would not be going on to Taft. It felt strange, but I am so happy my intense driving days are behind me. I used to listen to a book on tape every week, now it's one book in three weeks. I miss seeing my mom every week. That was a treat, one of the best things that came from Ron's 19 months away. I got to spend time with my mom. Not quite the way I wanted it, but I have to look at the good side of things. Seeing my mom every week, my kids more often than I do now, and having a closer connection with my immediate family was a great bonus. It really helped me through those many months.

Now we're back to our ordinary lives, with a little less travel. We are both grateful to be together again, and for the time being, the family will have to come to us. I hope that will change soon.

Phase Two-Week Seven

With less than three weeks to go in this phase of our experience, the nightly calls are still waking us up. I think there's been just one night without a middle of the night wake up call. About once a week Ron will get a call around 3am and they'll tell him he needs to come for a drug test in the morning. Nothing like a lot of notice. We're used to it.

I can't believe it's been seven weeks since I picked Ron up at Taft. In some ways it seems that 19 months never happened, in other ways it seems I just picked him up yesterday. We are now into a routine. We spend lots of time together, we play a lot of bridge, shop for food, then eat the food. We've kind of picked up where we left off 19 months ago.

The one thing that has changed is Ron's visible appreciation for all he has. He gets up each morning thankful for the life he has, his good health, good marriage, good family. He goes to sleep each night remembering where he has been and again feeling thankful that he is home.

Ron loves my smile. He says I don't smile enough, and he is working hard to make me smile alot everyday. I thought I did smile alot, but maybe not. He does so much every day to assure that I am happy. I guess I could say that he thinks more about me than he ever did before. This is a change I love.

Happiness. The simplest things make us happy. Having breakfast together, going to Costco, or eating a burger at Hodad's make us happy. I've been doing some research on the countries of the world where people are the happiest. The U.S. is NOT one of them, but I consider myself happy. I believe we make our own happiness. I think of our lives together and realize that our happiest times have been when we've had the least. Security makes me happy, and emotionally I feel very secure, thus very happy. As the Bob Marley song I like so much says, "Don't Worry, Be Happy, Everything's gonna be all right."

As we enter the final two weeks of home confinement and get ready for phase three, we both look forward to the end of the phone calls and the weekly schedules telling where Ron will be and when. The Halfway House is constantly checking up, but as I've said before, they're never going to find Ron in the wrong place at the wrong time. No way. He's always where he's supposed to be. Just 18 more days of extreme accountability.

Phase Two-Week Six

With just less than 4 more weeks of phase two, Ron and I went out for our first "Fancy" dinner. Our friend Murray, had given us a gift certificate to Ruth's Chris, which we decided to spend. It was a holiday weekend yet the place was packed. We arrived just in time to watch the sunset. What a beautiful sight.

Not only was the dinner fantastic, but the whole evening was very special. We talked about expectations. What did I expect from Ron when he came home and what did he expect from me? We decided that neither of us got exactly what we wanted, but isn't that pretty much the way life is? I'm a bit of a romantic, and had visions of walks on the beach, breakfast outside in the backyard, trips to the farmers market on Sunday, then cooking together in the afternoon. Why I would expect this I have no idea. It's not that people can't change, they can, but you can't change a leopard's spots.. Ron has changed in many ways, and we have actually done some of the things I fantasized about. But those things are NOT him, and he struggles to do them. He makes an effort to please me in so many ways which I thoroughly appreciate and love him for, but I guess I'm just never going to enjoy long walks at the beach with him.

When a couple is separated for a long time, each person thinks about how life will be when they're back together. The reality is it will never be the way either of them imagined, but hopefully life will be a mixture of what they both want. Earlier in our marriage Ron feels I gave much more than he did, and is now willing to bend over backwards to be the one giving more. I love him for that, as I know it's hard for him.

I think expectations of ANYTHING are often disappointing. A cruise or big trip that you plan often does not meet your expectations. The new job you finally got may not be what you were expecting either. So it goes. We should all continue to have high expectations for the things we do and the people we do them with, but realize that most things don't turn out the way we want them to. Just another part of life that I've come to accept in the past few years.

Many years ago a doctor friend of ours told us a story. He said when your children are born, you expect them to be brilliant, funny and successful. A doctor, lawyer, or even president of the US. Then as they grow and develop you realize that your child is not all of these things, and you start lowering your expectations. It's so true. The same can be said for relationships. If your expectations are too high you are constantly disappointed. Although all of my expectations have not been met, I am happy and content that we can talk about these things openly, and in many cases make compromises so that we're both happy.

Phase Two-Week Five

It's been 33 days since Ron was released from Taft, 17 days since he left the halfway house. In some respects it seems he was never gone, in other ways time is moving very slowly. When Ron was incarcerated I had multiple ways of counting the time, as did he. One obvious way was my calendar, which I marked off each day. The other way I counted was with my jelly bean jar. My jelly beans are all gone, and I have not even thought about marking off my calendar in weeks. In fact, I haven't even looked at the date on the calendar. He's home, and marking time is no longer something I think about doing. We were driving somewhere last week (along the coast, Ron's favorite drive) and Ron mentioned to me how slowly he thought time was going. Since his return we have been busy from morning until evening working, driving, organizing, talking, planning. We collapse into bed each night, and except for the one or two calls from the halfway house that awaken us each night, we both are sleeping pretty well.

Ron is excited. He's working hard to return to work. His mind is finally free from fear and he has renewed energy and excitement about getting into business. Ron plans to umpire again, little league and pony league, with his friend Buzz. This is something he dearly loves, and is just awaiting final confirmation on this activity.

Food is still constantly on his mind. He doesn't eat that much, but he wants to try everything, every new restaurant, every kind of food that he's missed for the past 19 months. We've been eating out a lot. Two of our friends bought us gift certificates to Ruth's Chris and Flemmings. We are going to use those soon. I look forward to that.

The constant phone calls and the calling in that Ron has to do twice a day are constant reminders that he must be accountable. It's a small price to pay for freedom. It's a big pain for him to have to drive down to the halfway house twice a week for his lifestyles class and his meeting with his counselor, but it sure beats the alternative. They have been very accomodating and have now scheduled what was two trips, to only one. That makes it a bit easier, and in a few weeks, this will all be behind us. In the meantime, Ron is diligently making his weekly schedules so that the halfway house knows where he is at all times. Sunday night we were having dinner with some new friends when we had to rush home to make Ron's 6:30pm curfew. And yes, they do check. Someone came to our house at 8:35am last week to make sure Ron was here, as he's not supposed to leave until 9am. He was here. They can check all they want. He's always where he's supposed to be.

Phase Two-Week Four

It's now been more than three full weeks since Ron was released from Taft, and about 10 days that he's been home full time. We've gone to 2 movies, been out for lunch and dinner several times, taken drives along the beach, and seen and talked to lots of old friends. Are we back to "normal?" Not quite.

The adjustment from camp life to real life is much greater than I imagined. Ron made some very strong attachments at Taft. There are one or two men in particular that Ron talks about often. Every time he is "enjoying the moment" on the outside, he thinks of his friends at Taft. It's been hard for him to leave them behind, and harder knowing he will most likely never see them again.

Ron keeps asking me if he's changed. I would say yes and no. His general manner has not changed. He's a joke teller, speaks his mind, knows what he wants and goes after it, and loves his sports. None of this has changed. What has changed is his attitude toward me. He wants to spend lots of time with me, doing things that I like to do. This is new and I like it. Our trip to Smart and Final a few days ago never would have taken place 2 years ago. Ron usually wanted to do what HE wanted to do. Now he wants to do what I want to do. Another big change is tour shared responsibility for taking care of the house. I wanted to make sure that we both shared in household chores, cooking and doing dishes. So far things are working well. I am pleasantly surprised.

There is so much that Ron experienced in the last 19 months that will only be revealed over time. The good and the bad will come out through stories, experiences that remind Ron of an event that took place at Taft, or through our evening talks that get Ron talking. I look forward to hearing it all, but I will not push Ron to discuss anything before he feels ready. There is so much I want to hear, and I will hear it all in time.

Phase Two-Week Three

I really thought by this time Ron would be home and settled. He's finally home, but far from settled. As of last Wednesday, he was still in the Halfway House from 7pm-8am, and would leave every morning to come home and work. He would get a 52 hour pass for the weekend, but by Sunday afternoon was extremely depressed about having to go back the Halfway House. The director and counselor kept telling him it was just a matter of getting a signature on a piece of paper, but days would go by and nothing happened. Last Thursday was his counselor's last day before a week's vacation, and Ron knew if it didn't get done then, he'd be stuck for another week. How many times can you keep asking the same question? He did not want to get too annoying.

Tuesday night we met Donna and Kay for a quick dinner before bridge and before Ron had to leave for the Halfway House. He was terribly depressed, to the stage where he was quiet, sad and disconnected. I was worried, because I have noticed that each day around 4pm he gets very depressed and angry. He knows that his paperwork is just sitting on someone's desk to be signed, but that wasn't getting done. Anyway, I went off to play bridge Tuesday night concerned with how this emotional rollercoaster was effecting Ron. Wednesday morning I got a call from him at 8am, and he was a completely different person. He was happy, excited about the day and about the weekend ahead, and he had made an important decision. He recognized that he has done all he can to get his paperwork complete, and he is going to simply wait it out, knowing that this will be over soon. He is looking back to where he was just a few weeks ago, and is grateful for the freedom he has. This is an inconvenience and time consuming, and he hates it, but he is facing it as he has everything else. He has done what he can, it's out of his control, and it will end. Best of all, he has a much diffent attitude today. I'm happy for that.

Wednesday night I went to play poker in my monthly game and when I turned my phone back on I had a message from Ron. He would be released from the Halfway House the next morning. He was so excited. All he had to do was fill out a few forms and he'd be on his way. His counselor called him at 9pm to tell him the news. Who knows how these things work? I wouldn't even try to figure this all out. Anyway, he's home and we're happy, and it only took 15 days to get him home. I know from the experiences of others that he could have ended up staying there until October. So I can say in this case we hoped for the best, and got it.

Phase Two-Week Two

As I said last week, I'm a dreamer. I never imagined what Ron's release to a halfway house would actually mean. He's still under the control of the BOP (Bureau of Prisons), which tells you immediately that there will be a million rules and forms involved. The population at the halfway house totals about 100. The term "house" is a misnomer. It's a warehouse. There are about 90 young Histpanic men, most between 18-30, about 8 Blacks, all ages, and 2 Whites. (Ron and a 73 year old guy). There is so much misbehavior there, but no one seems to care, as long as no one gets hurt. Everyone has been extremely nice and helpful to Ron, from the residents to the director of the halfway house. Ron got a lucky break last week, and met the nice young man who runs the facility. It was obvious to him that Ron didn't belong there, and he has done everything he can to expedite his return to home confinement. The first order of business was to get his job approved (again). The director took care of this immediately, and Ron was approved for work beginning August 1. This would mean that I would pick him up at 8am, take him home, let him do the paperwork associated with his job, then drive him around all day, and back to the halfway house before 7pm. Whew. That was tiring. The next most important thing was to get his car approved, so that he could drive back and forth to the halfway house rather than my doing all the driving, which was totaling around 250 miles per day. They had to inspect the car to make sure it was in working order, then he was approved for driving. This process took about 5 days.

The final step was to get approved for home confinement. This had already been approved months ago, but somehow everything has to be done twice. (just like every other job in America). The director is an extremely busy man, but he took an interest in Ron and got this done by the end of the week. What a relief. There is still a huge amount of paperwork and reporting that has to be done daily, but now that he's home things are much easier. When he was in the halfway house, Ron was required to fill out a request for every pass, from doctors, to dinner, to shopping. Last week he went to his psychologist, and had to bring a note from the doctor saying he had been there. They are trying to keep the men accountable.

Ron called one evening to tell me that all men were required to take a 9 week course, once a week, on life skills, anger management, etc. He was told he would have to do this even when he went home. Fortunately, the director realized that this is something Ron does not need to attend, and he will be getting him excused.

Most of the men at the halfway house have a bleak future. If they haven't yet been to jail, most of them soon will. They are young, uneducated, unskilled, and most of them have no interest in a life that doesn't include risk. It's a sorry situation.

Whoever said things would get right back to normal when Ron came home sees things very differently than I do. Ron thinks alot about the friends he left behind. Many people told him as soon as he walked out the doors of Taft he would forget those that are still inside. Maybe that's true for some, but Ron thinks about a few of them often, talks about them, and even though I barely know them, I find myself thinking about them too. It makes me so sad to think about their future.

One funny thing that happened this week involves eating. Food was something Ron thought about all the time while he was at Taft. How he missed his burgers, pizza, licorice, etc. Saturday night we went to Tommy V's Urban Kitchen for Happy Hour, which Ron absolutely loved. We ordered several items, much too much, but took a lot of it home. He did not overeat at dinner, but afterwards we went to Trader Joe's to stock up on some junk food. Ron bought chocolate covered raisins, chocolate covered orange peel, licorice scotties, ice cream bars, and butter cookies, among other things. He came home and proceed to mindlessly eat way too much throughout the evening. At 4:30am he woke up with the worst acid reflux he's ever had. He immediately took a Prilosec, but it was so bad he had to get up. That was the end of sleep for the night, and he vowed never to overeat like that again. I hopes he remembers how he felt and won't do that again.

For us, things are beginning to seem more normal, now that we're not spending all our time driving. Emotions for both of us are a bit of a roller coaster, but I think that will even out as time progresses. Ron's comings and goings are quite restrictive right now, but compared to where he was, he's just soooo happy. We've got about 8 more weeks of restriction, and then he comes and goes without asking permission. More next week.

Phase Two-Week One

What a dreamer I am. I thought I'd pick Ron up at Taft on Wednesday, drive him to the halfway house for Orientation, then home, and we'd all live happily after. That's not quite the way it's working out, so my Monday blogs will continue with what I am calling "Phase Two."

I arrived at Taft at 7am on Wednesday morning. I couldn't sleep the night before. I was so excited about picking Ron up. He was released at 7:25am. He came out with a box filled with all the cards and letters he had received in the past six months, some books, and legal and medical papers. I had brought him some street clothes, which he quickly changed into, put his prison garb in a plastic bag, and we were out the door. We had gone about a half mile when he remembered that he had left $18 in the pocket of the pants he had turned in. This was what he had left in his commissary account, and they gave it to him in cash. I asked if he wanted to go back for the money. I think you know his answer. NO!

We had a great day. We stopped at Denny's in Valencia for bacon and eggs, and the best cup of coffee Ron had had in a long time. He was surprised that breakfast cost $20. I brought his cell phone with me so he could call family and friends. Would you believe he had forgotten how to pull up his contacts, recall numbers and other features, but within 15 minutes it all came back. We arrived home before noon, relaxed for an hour, then headed to the halfway house, which is located near the Coronado Bridge.

Ron had been lead to believe that he would be home before the end of the week. Orientation, and home. It didn't turn out that way. First, the halfway house is filled with all kinds of people, many of them pretty scary. I was afraid to leave him there, and he wasn't too happy with the raucous atmosphere and the tough looking residents. I was much more uncomfortable than when I had dropped him at Taft.

Within a few hours, Ron called to say that all was well. There were a few men who helped get him settled, and the food tastes gourmet compared to what he is used to. Now it's just a matter of waiting. His case worker should contact him within 72 hours, give him his orientation, and tell him when he can go home. It should be right away, but I won't bet on it.

So here we are, I'm driving back and forth to the halfway house, which is a lot better than driving to Taft, but still quite tiring. I always say, "It's not over until the fat lady sings." Well, she's not singing yet, so I'll keep blogging as long as Phase Two is interesting. I don't know what's coming next week, but I'm sure there will be something unexpected that I'll want to tell you about. Stay tuned.