May 24, 2014
Memorial Day in Federal Prison
So, I’m sitting here on Memorial Day weekend wishing I were where I always am today: in VA Beach. It’s kind of a bummer, but when I consider how much time I have served and how little I have left to serve, I feel better.
Part of this punishment is supposed to be this pain I feel today. Prison is not supposed to be a party. To manage the separation from home, I exercised relentlessly today. Every ounce of energy I had, I used on the track. I had no choice. I just wanted to get my mind off what I am missing. I try so hard to keep my mind focused here, but sometimes it’s tough.
Fortunately, my days are going much faster now. Working at landscaping helps. I work all over the woods cutting trees, placing groundhog traps, etc. It’s weird, I keep having flashbacks of the summer when I was under 16 years old (after that I spent most of my free time on the bay or at the beach).
The James River, which runs beside the camp, is harder to see because the trees are filling in. What I cannot see, I can hear. That is the sounds of boats coming by. Soon I’ll be free and won’t just hear the boats—I’ll see them. Then I will look back on the other side, to my friends in prison, and probably wonder how I did it.
I remind myself that this is only a moment in time. I will not be here forever.