Season’s Greetings from Death Row

Greetings again, and welcome back to the Roost. It is December 24th and I think I am about through the darker mindset this time of year can bring in here. Today is a day that we are supposed to get one of those twelve showers we get a month… however, it seems the staff would rather spend Christmas Eve with their families, so not enough of them came in to run the prison… so we are on “lockdown”, which means no showers or anything else.

So I turned on the radio (my only source of outside distraction) to find holiday music playing everywhere, even my usual weekly syndicated three hours of escape: The Acoustic Storm with Jeff Parrots.

And I couldn’t help but begin to laugh…and that is when the pall began to lift. (It has been a rough week. The shower, or lack thereof, was just the capper to a search on the 22nd, a legal visit on the same day during which I heard about how this blog is not approved of by my lawyer, as well as other contentious points. (Although she did say she may buy me a book that I have been wanting… I must say that is very nice of her, it being birthday/Christmastime and all.)

But the music made me see the incongruous nature of my mindset over something I should have learned to deal with much better by now… so I took down the pictures that I had taped to my wall of my deceased father and mother, my child is so busy he cannot write, and my grandchildren that I have never held… some of which are sitting on Santa’s lap. (I will put most of them back up in a week or two…not the Santa ones… but right now I need to stop wallowing, so not having them up will help, I think.)

And I sit here– yup, listening to holiday music on The Acoustic Storm (some of which is awful!) and writing a post and wondering if I will get a shower on Monday the 26th (my next scheduled one).

It has been some time since I was this “down” during the holidays. (The year my father died, I was much too worried to even consider the time of year, so it was before that, I think.) I don’t know; for some reason, it just kind of hit me like a truck this year.

I kind of see myself as an outcast from society, a wretch that is shunned. (Rightly so, I suppose, but right or not, it can be a difficult thing to live with.) That is why my friend Anna and the opportunity she has afforded me to reach out from my oubliette means so very much to me. Even without direct input from those of you who read this, I know on an intellectual level that you are out there, someplace, reading my thoughts, and that means we are all connected on some level.

(Yes, my dear Anna, this is the gift you have given me…made me at least a little bit less of an outcast. You have my deepest gratitude, my dear friend. You have given me much to be thankful for.)

The nurse just came by with the aspirin they give me for back pain. (Kind of like trying to chase off a bear with a fly swatter, but I’ll take it– it’s better than nothing.) and she said “Merry Christmas” to me. She means well, and I said it back to her. I don’t want to get going to far down this road on this post, but it makes me wonder if people really understand what it is like to be in a cage, under sentence of death, waiting for almost two decades… and it is a holiday where family means so very much… “Merry Christmas!” Not laughing, but at least I am smiling about it. My world is nothing if not absurd.

I think I will give Anna a break and make this a shorter-than-usual post. Perhaps I’ll open up my brown paper bag and eat my bologna sandwich early…or I suppose I could give my cage a good cleaning (it could use it; I have been slacking of late).

Peace be with you all, and I hope you have had a good holiday, however you may keep it. And please remember to thank Anna, without whom you would not be reading this.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s