12/27/2020
Like so many people around the world, this year, Christmas Eve and Christmas Day were very different than in years past.
Christmas Eve was spent finishing up work-related tasks until about 11:00 a.m. Then I had to pack the car for the next 3 days’ travel.
I got on the road headed North to visit my son at about 4 p.m. I arrived at my destination, a simple motel room, at about 9:00. My dinner consisted of a frozen meal picked up at Walmart earlier. Utensils never crossed my mind, so I turned a styrofoam cup into a makeshift spoon/fork. As I sat on the bed eating my dinner, I reflected on the facts; it’s Christmas Eve, I’m alone, my meal and utensil are a bit pathetic, I’m not sad. In fact, I kind of laughed at myself.
I finished my meal and snuggled under the covers. The alarm was set for 5 a.m.
Christmas morning!
I woke up on schedule. Reheated the coffee I bought the night before from the convenience store and got dressed and ready for the day. My outfit had to be carefully selected since I was going to visit my son in prison. No underwire, solid colored mask, shoes that are easy to slip on and off for inspection.
After getting ready, I packed up my belongings and started out for the hour and a half drive.
I arrived at the prison at 7:17 a.m. I checked in, which means I presented my ID and filled out my name and address, as well as my son’s name and DIN number on two different forms. I gave the package I brought to the officer to process. Only two items were deemed unacceptable this time. Then I was sent back to my car to wait to be called for the next step.
I sat in my car for about an hour and a half before it was my turn to move on to the next step.
Eventually, I went to the next building, where I again presented my ID and had my picture taken. Then I removed my shoes and coat and walked through the metal detector. Next, an officer stamped my hand, gave me a paper with my picture and information on it, and sent me down the corridor where I had to show my paper and stamped hand. Now I was allowed to pass through a series of gates that would be opened for me when I reached them. They led to the visiting room, where I had to once again present my paper and wait while the guard decided what table would be assigned to me. I went to my table and waited my turn to have access to the vending machine. My son always looks forward to eating something other than prison food. I loaded up on some snacks and sandwiches, used the microwave to prepare them, and then went back to the table to wait for him to be brought to the visiting room.
I waited about a half hour for him to arrive. This part of the process seems to last forever and it always leaves me with too much time and no escape from the reality that my son has been locked up for over 2 ½ years and he has another year and a half to go. There are times when life is busy and I can avoid that reality, but not in the visiting room as I watch other inmates come in and sit down at a table with their family. Not while I wait to see my son come through that door.
Finally Jimmy came in. Due to the pandemic, no hugs were permitted. He sat at the other end of a long table and we both had to wear masks, except when we were eating our Christmas dinner of vending machine sandwiches and snacks. It was difficult to hear each other since the room was filling up with other visitors by this time. He caught me up on some happenings inside. He shared some worries and concerns. He talked about wanting to come home and tried to encourage us both by pointing out he only has 17 months left. I saw so many emotions wash over his face as he talked. As a mom, it was painful to watch and hear, painful to not be able to hug him, and most of all to not be able to take him away from this life and this place that were not in any future I had envisioned for my son.
By the end of the visit, some of the tension had lifted and Jimmy shared that just being able to talk with me had been helpful. We said our good-byes. He went back to this place he has to call home and I headed to my car. The good-byes are never easy and at least part of the 6 hour drive home is spent processing the whole experience.
I prayed for Jimmy and I took my fears about his safety, well-being, and future to God. I cried. I reminded myself that God took care of him when he was on the streets in active addiction, and I could trust God to take care of him in that prison. I let it go. Truthfully, I had to “let it go” many more times on the drive. When the feelings of helplessness would come back up, I had to remind myself that while I might be “helpless”, I have a God who is strong and mighty.
The last hour of my drive brought me into a snowstorm and I had to reduce my speed to about 30 miles per hour. The drive was a bit nerve-wracking, but the sight outside my car was beautiful and the thoughts and feelings inside me were...peaceful.
It was definitely a Christmas spent like no other.
But, again, I wasn’t sad.
Since 2010 when my husband died unexpectedly, there have been many Christmases when, in spite of being with family or friends, there was a lingering sadness. But this year, spent in such an unusual way, and alone for a large part of it, I was not sad. As much as I was thankful for the peace I felt, I was curious. What was different this year?
I haven’t completely figured it out, but I’ve identified a few factors.
I’ve been more disciplined with having my quiet time with God in the mornings. I’ve been communicating with others about my thoughts and feelings instead of pushing them aside or letting them spin around inside of me like a tornado. I’ve been taking control of my thoughts and challenging the negative ones. I’ve been reminding myself of the blessings and the things I have to be thankful for.
I hope this doesn’t come across as a “poor me” post, because that is not my intent. I just felt like I had to share how God- it had to be Him- helped me to have joy and peace in spite of the non-traditional way I spent Christmas Eve and Christmas Day this year.
The word “kaleidoscope” came to mind as I sat down to write this morning. Can we sometimes turn the lens and see things in a different light? Can all the pieces of this life become beautiful when looked at with the help of God’s light? I think so. I’m hoping to- no PLANNING to- walk into 2021 with eyes ready to turn the lens of the kaleidoscope as needed to keep my focus on the beauty that is all around me.
