My Storms in Life's Tornadoes before the Calm

I have met a few freed incarcerated people from prison. It’s a place where there is very little hope where you must fight to survive. Usually, places where there is poor quality food, not a lot of educational and rehabilitative services back then. The store which is very expensive to buy food like Ramen is claimed by one to be safer and healthier than the food in the cafeteria. You must also qualify  and ask to complete the GED if there is space in the class. The libraries are scant with books I heard. The means to clean yourself, and wear shoes is bought from the store from the account created in the store for each prisoner and there are visitation days as well.

I understand prisons are not luxury hotels but we must do better to rehabilitate folks but it needs to start with positive prevention in our local communities, worship centers, community centers and schools to assist with additional funds and staff that help the quality of life improve for each and every child. Healthy food, healthy choices in relationships and behavior. Some children misbehave because they are hungry and have dysfunctional family relationships in order to survive. We need to aim for thriving, not surviving and having healthy minds and bodies to flow and succeed in society.

I had a relative in prison during a difficult time in my life. We were battling a 5 year battle of ‘eminent domain’ and also having to deal with a relative having Alzheimers and creating an awareness to the family that he needed some care. I wrote to my Grandfather. He was a veteran and I wrote to him even after I wrote to both him and my Grandmother. He once told me on a good day that “I thought everyone would forget about me when Grandma died.” I knew and he knew he wasn’t an easy person to deal with. Anyway, relatives stepped up as I had a feeling something urgent needed to happen in his case. I wrote for years to him and found that after he died; he kept all letters and notes and cards from me that took up stacks on shelves surrounding his bedroom. 

His relative in prison was on the deed to the house. There was some problem with the wills and some issues of which belongings were to be inherited and to whom. That was not my job with the family and I didn’t care for any of the property. I knew that something had to be cleared up and I urged the family members to find if any diagnosis of Alzheimer’s occurred on record to make sure everything was in order and to cease fighting amongst family.

I wrote my relative in prison of the updates, their rights to their property and to ask where she wanted her personal items to be kept and who to release to. It took some time because she confused inherited items with her personal items. Since Grandpa had a Guarantor and Custodial relative that lived there locally…there was also making sure his wishes were carried out. I also kept my relative in prison updated on his care and which assisted care center and the name and addresses. I was in between her and the relatives assigned Guarantor and Custodial after they didn't heed my warning go earlier. I would also write happy times as we were small children and lived together a few years and the good times both Grandparents gave us cooking and baking wonderful meals for all of us. 

I wrote my relative to do her art as she drew something so beautiful and she did the art for payment to other prisoners to earn money. I urged her to keep trying to get her GED. I then told her my life as my son was going through celiac and food allergy issues. We were discovering and learning to cook differently as a Mother and teach him before he went to college. I had a daughter struggling to tell us she was gay as well and acted up while we had almost lost our house due to a bank transition error of a mortgage already paid off by debt collectors and battled in court for our property out of state in the Montgomery, Alabama state near the Rosa Parks District...Then my husband dealing with his mysterious lung issues and going to emergency room a few times until they found it was stress and COPD. I then learned to whittle down expenses and keep my son fed and get him to school and taking him to gastroenterologists. He won a scholarship that had no public transportation of a 45 minute drive midday and end of day - twice a day. I then had an issue with my daughter getting small spurts of paralysis and unable to speak and taking her for ct scans, sleep testing, etc. I juggled our self employed business and shopped at dollar stores to live and then a heart virus hit me while I was dealing with misunderstanding teachers of my son’s celiac and digestive issues and racist teachers as well as my daughter’s health issues. It was a very trying time.

I kept comforting my family and kept all involved up to date and handled my life here. There was no assistance except cutting expenses and cooking and learning ayurvedic natural medicinal cooking to heal my husband who needed a separate diet then my son’s diet. I was learning a lot and trying to heal my heart virus. All I chalk up to stress from the court battles for 5 years. At some point we had to sacrifice so much to keep our good insurance to cover procedures for my husband and son’s surgeries. I had payment plans for other things and kept going.

Anyway, during the prison issues…my grandpa died and I wrote letters to the prison counselor for my relative in her block. In prison, you are a number. I wrote the counselor so he could understand her background, our relationship and how her parents were cooks, etc. I then had to make a call so I got the number to the counselor and his email. I sent him a message urgently to give word to her. He then said I only have 5 minutes and got her from her cell. I then said who I was and she answered and said ‘Your father has died and I am so sorry.’ Then that’s all we could say…I had to hang up.

I asked my relatives if she could come to the funeral? They said yes, I found out it was a fee to be escorted by 2 guards and a meal was provided that day. That the family had so many days to get the money to make it happen. Then she would view the body by herself and leave and she could not attend the funeral with the family or eat with us. So she wrote that her kids would do it. Unfortunately, her kids were late on the deadline. I did take a few pictures at the funeral mass for my aunty and her children and wrote a poem. I arrived by myself as my family was sick to stay with family. I cooked a meal for them and they had their school pictures or senior pics at the same time so I accompanied them and bought the groceries. We chose the flowers and spray and type of coffin, what he wore etc. I blessed his home but could not find any of his military clothing. My Dad gave me his Filipino shirt and pants and cufflinks for his burial and I went with my sister-in-law to drop them off at the mortuary.

That evening after choosing the flowers and cooking for the family; she cried to say she didn’t know if they would have a military bugle or salute for him but she hoped so and there was no one to do the speech. I then was told by God that I would be doing the speech and to not worry that the words would be given to me. So I thought I had a poem for him but I became the one to give the funeral mass speech in his honor. I then was asked to do a poem by the priest who asked if anyone would like to share anything with the attendees and family. I read my poem then his coffin was in the front of the church. He was so thin. His spirit came out wearing his white navy clothes and his dark wavy black hair and he told me: “These people don’t know me, I never went to this church and tell my story. You need to tell my story.” I nodded and spoke about the wonderful times, his history, his passions and life with Grandma and the children and he gave warm appreciation and messages through me to each family member.  My Mother said, “You gave a good speech!” It was rare that she complimented me. It was a nice funeral as the bugle player arrived and the gun salute was done. My sister in law was happy and said, “I didn’t think they were coming but they did? She cried and I comforted her saying: “Yes, and you did a great job.” It was so emotional and so much to take in and handle again….

It was a cathartic trip as the person who violated me apologized for what he did after the funeral. 

During this process of stress with my own family; I learned to talk to the higher self, the mind and body and heart of the person without calling them or speaking physically with them at other times. It became useful to do his wishes. I asked him at times what about his house? He said, I put the relative in prison on a deed and want her to have it. I then conveyed this to them as they searched for wills and documents, etc. I then spoke to him a few times when he was in the care home and asked him to be kind to my Mother and other relatives and try to be patient about the process of moving him to the care home by the social worker. I would assure him we were all working and that I kept everyone informed. I wrote him knowing the caregiver and roommate would read about the good times of our family and what we all did together and what he used to do and his wife and cooking  and dancing Filipino Club dances with Grandma…in order for all like the prison counselor the good in the families.

Anyway, I also did speak to his higher self, mind and body and soul. He would ask me if I should go to God? I would tell him that is your sacred contract with God and it is your choice. You have to see the quality of life here and why you wish to stay on this earth and go from that but I cannot choose your souls and bodies contract for yourself. Like the ‘Our Father” …thy will be done. I then was contacted by him the day he was deciding while he was being transported to the hospital…he asked me again: “Shall I go to Lucy…(Grandma)?” I would reply again: “It is your choice and ‘thy will be done’ prayer. He then said he was hanging on because of his relative in prison but then he said, “He’s been there for her so many times and she was a grown woman and made her choices and that it wasn’t a good reason to stay.” He continued, “I want to go to Lusing/Lucy.” I said, “If that’s what you want to do; it is your sacred contract and choice.” I then saw my Grandma dressed in white lace Filipino butterfly sleeve dress with white hair ornament and he appeared in black trousers with a Filipino white long sleeve shirt.” They were on the beach and a full moon was there and they danced away and disappeared. My sister-in-law arrived too late that I comforted her often between her understanding him, other relatives and wanting to do the right thing. She called to say he passed. I told her: “I know.” She used to ask me how I would know?” I said, “He told me.”

Anyway, whatever happened at the house was their choice. I couldn’t stay any longer to help clear out the property as I didn’t want to toss and sort things that would be in conflict. 

Years later, I was told by my relative that any prisoner freed from jail had to apply to get their rights back which was so many forms…ridiculous and that certain crimes even if you served time; you couldn’t work certain types of jobs and if you did you needed to apply for fingerprints authorization that would only last 3 years and keep applying as long as you were working each time. 

Anyway, I find that we need not penalize people first or judge people first from a young age and teach them with compassion and make sure basic needs are met for all people so that their minds are clear and the path to do with peaceful, flow what they are good at doing and succeed with the schools and communities involved. Europe has a system not so harsh and has a community based way of being so that people have their health care, have the schools and programs to give them hope and redirect themselves.

I hope we improve our society instead of making money incarcerating folks and having quality of life. Remove also the prisons of poverty, crime, and reservations and create a community of thriving not surviving. (Watch "The Tehachapi Project by JR where art brings peace and inspiration to prisoners.)