Headphone Epiphany

This was a weird week leading up to Christmas.  It was a week I learned a major lesson in growth and grace.  It all started typically enough.  Tuesday evening “Big S” had to work for 5^th period school (he’s a vocational aide and recently named computer aide to work with me and the new IT students).  Big S has been working out five days a week with “Jah”.  No big deal, so far.

He gets to work Tuesday night and his left arm – forearm, bicep and elbow – are swelled to three times their normal size.  His arm is blotchy and discolored.  A workout injury?  Possibly, except he and Jah hadn’t lifted since Sunday.  His instructor calls medical for him and at 7:00 pm he’s down with the nurses.

I’m sitting on my bunk doing, well, what I do almost every evening:  watching a “Seinfeld” re-run while reading “USA Today”.  Three officers move into the cut and open “S’s” locker and start packing him up.   I know the officers and one says “they’ve got him at medical.  Keeping him overnight.”

As I’ve described before in this blog – and in an accompanying piece this week – medical care in prison is abysmal.  All of us were worried – what’s up with Big S?

Side theme:  they have him completely packed up and “LA” comes by to see me.  LA because he’s from Los Angeles.  A bright young guy, LA nonetheless has way too much con in him, especially for a 24 year old who’s lost five years of his life to prison.  “Heh, Larry, did they take the other set of headphones?”  “What headphones?” I replied.  “I left a set on his bed.  Guy in 6 building needs repaired.”  Now Big S knew nothing about the repair or the headphones on his bunk.

Wednesday morning and Big S pushes his cart back in.  The diagnosis:  a bug bite (spider?) caused a massive infection in his arm.  High doses of antibiotics (and ten days of “pill call”) and he’ll be fine.  He’s going through his stuff and sees the extra set of headphones.  I explain the entire LA conversation.  That afternoon, Big S takes the phones to work and an electrical aide rewires and builds a new headclip (the phones we are allowed to buy have thin, cheap brittle plastic on the top.  They always crack within days of purchase. A guy in the shop makes a heavier, more pliable headpiece).  Big S gives the phones to LA for return to building 6.  Thursday afternoon two guys come running into the building looking for Big S.

“Gomez” (the guy in building 6) says someone switched out the speakers.  The name and number are scratched out and the earcovers (foam) are worn out.  Big S is perplexed.  The electrical aide had repaired a new set. The set Gomez sent back over for Big S to examine was old and worn.

So Big S goes to confront LA.  And, LA denies, and denies and then finally admits the truth.  He’d switched the speakers (earphone part) to sell before he leaves.  How do I say this other than Big S was pissed!

A couple of things to remember:  prisons are notorious places for cons to be run.  Guys try and get things over unsuspecting inmates all the time.  Conversely, you expect the guys you befriend; you help, to shoot straight with you.  Numerous times I’ve been, shall we say, let down by guys in here who have asked for help and then done slimy things.  You get used to it and you don’t let it change how you behave and who you are. 

The second thing to remember is Big S is a pretty big guy and “pp” (pre-prison) he was a fighter.  He worked nights as a bouncer at a few Richmond area bars and participated in a half-dozen UFC fights.  He also had a quick temper.

I watched LA stammer and stutter his way through before finally, with head down, going back to his bunk area and retrieving the good phones.  And, I watched Big S, jaw clenched, angry, trying to control his visceral reaction which was to break LA into a dozen pieces. 

Big S came back to the cut, obviously upset.  I climbed off my bunk and listened as he explained everything that had taken place.

“So what are you gonna do?”  I asked Big S.  “Forgive him.  Isn’t that what you’re always tellin me God expects us to do?  It’s not worth fighting over.  LA hasn’t figured it out yet.  He’s doomed to come back unless he does.”  “Forgive him.”  Can you imagine?  We throw terms like “forgiveness” around so easily and yet our initial reaction is to, well react.  Big S somehow decided the reaction wasn’t worth it.  Something else was required.  How much baggage, how much anger do we bottle up inside seeking “satisfaction” for wrongs perpetuated against us when the right thing to do is say “OK, I forgive you.”

Does that mean people will stop conning you, hurting you, trying to take advantage of you?  Probably not.  LA, he’s six weeks from going home and he’s still running cons.  He was willing to sell out his relationship with Big S for a few bucks.  LA was/is one of the high-risk recidivism offenders.  He’s done five years this bid on drug distribution and gun charges.  He’d been in and out of juvenile detention and twice did short jail terms.  He claims “I’m never coming back”.  But, how you behave in this environment largely dictates how you’ll be on the street.  In LA’s case, the prognosis isn’t good.

Will Big S’s handling of the situation suddenly cause a light bulb to go off over LA’s head and he’ll begin “doing the right thing”?  I don’t know.  But I know this:  the old way of doing things doesn’t work.

That all this took place on the eve of celebrating the birth of Emmanuel – “God with us” – came as no great surprise.  Big S just did what that birth was all about. He looked at the world through God’s eyes and said “that’s alright.  I forgive you.”  How odd that I saw that play out in prison.  Then again, “He came to set the prisoner’s free and open the eyes of the blind.”  And it all started with some headphones.  

Epiphany

The definition of an epiphany is “the sudden striking understanding of something”. I felt that this week. In one sudden burst of consciousness, I realized a great deal about my own life. It happened innocently enough. I read a story that was explaining forgiveness.



A father was very concerned with his son. His son would screw up and say “I’m sorry”, the father would then forgive him. The boy would then go and do the same wrong thing again and the pattern of “I’m sorry-You’re forgiven” repeated over and over. Finally, the father took the son to the garage. He hammered a nail into the wall. “Pull the nail out”, he told his son. The son took the hammer and pried the nail out without a problem.


“Wow”, the father said, “remove the hole”. I understood the point immediately. Even when we are forgiven, the hurt we caused, the betrayal leaves a hole. The writer had a powerful message. And, it was a message all of us need to be reminded of from time to time. It’s easy asking to be forgiven. But, for the person hurt, forgiveness goes beyond just “pulling the nail out”. It also means filling the hole.


I thought a great deal about my failed marriage and here was where the epiphany occurred. For perhaps the last forty years I’ve been dealing with people who always demanded more of me, never accepted me just doing what I could. My folks love me, but constantly pushed me to live up to their demands, their wishes. I was brow beaten and guilt driven to be what they expected. Even today, my mom’s modus operandi is to “guilt” people into doing what she wants.


Then, I met “her” – the woman I had always dreamt I’d meet. It was love at first sight, for me anyway. And, I began doing with her what I’d done with my folks, friends, you name it. I would do anything to make her happy. I wouldn’t say “no” to anything.


I should have realized there were problems. At our wedding, her aunt told her she was acting like a “self-centered bitch”. A few years after that, her grandfather told her to “quit patting yourself on the back”.


After I was arrested she wrote me and said “my marriage was my most important accomplishment”. I hi-lited “my” twice. It wasn’t “our” marriage; it was, I discovered, always “hers”.


Years ago she told me “I don’t need you. I’ve got my own money, own job. I can make it on my own.” Funny, when I was arrested she made sure to tell me she needed everything.


I believe in love at first sight, believe in true love. On reflecting on my marriage I came to realize everything I did, every decision, every concession fed her needs, not ours.


She’s too full of pride, too self-assured to think I ever mattered, we ever mattered. I realized this week she would never admit she missed me; never tell me she needed me. She’ll never say “I’m sorry”. She simply doesn’t believe any of those things.


And that was when I had my epiphany. For years I wanted her to love me, really love me. I wanted her to light up, tell me (and mean it) that she was happy, happy about us. Wanting that drove me to do terribly self-destructive things to myself and, ultimately our relationship. Of course, “our” relationship was the way it was because I gave everything.


Don’t get me wrong. I was a pain in the ass at times. I was compulsive, surly at times and didn’t like to discipline the kids. But, I was also a very loving husband. I was so in love with my wife. I would have done anything for her.


I realized my “marriage wall” was full of holes. Twenty-eight years of never being told I was loved, twenty-eight years of being told I wasn’t needed, twenty-eight years of never being told “I’m sorry”, or “you matter, we matter”.


I started patching the wall this week. I still love her. In spite of it all, I love her.


My cousin and her husband came for a visit this past weekend. One of the blessings in this experience (and yes, there are many blessings) has been developing an amazing relationship with them. Thanksgiving 2008, as I sat suffering in jail with my whole life spinning out of control they sent me a card, no “why’d you do it”, no “we’re disappointed in you”, just a simple message that said “we’re there for you”. Since that time, they write weekly and visit every couple of months. They’ve kept me stocked with magazines, books and most importantly, hope. Candidly, I’m not sure I could survive this without their love and support.


While we were talking I told them how I’d love to see my ex, love for her to walk through the door and tell me she made a mistake divorcing me. Then, after a couple of bites of microwavable sandwich, I said “of course, that will never happen and if it did, I couldn’t go back to her without changing. And she’ll never see any need to change.”


I’ve changed a great deal these past two plus years. I’ve learned a lot about myself and why things happened the way they did. I learned what love really means, what makes a true friend, and how important forgiveness, compassion, and faith are.


I’ve also learned I’ll always love my ex-wife, but it’s OK we’re not together. My life was too full of holes because of her. I deserve better.

A Father's Letter

To my precious sons –



I haven’t heard from either of you in an extremely long while. For me, it feels like a lifetime. Your mom censors what I write to you. I pass no judgment on her decision to do that. Ultimately, she will have to decide in her own conscience if her behavior throughout this time has been appropriate.


I use this posting to put on paper some thoughts I’ve had about our circumstances, what we’ve been through, what I’ve learned. My intention is not to justify “why” this happened. If you want the whole story you know where to find me.


No, my purpose is to share with you some life lessons I’ve learned throughout this process. I won’t criticize you or your mom. Fact is, I love you three deeply, more deeply than any of you can imagine. Not a day goes by that I don’t pray about you three. I only hope and pray that your lives are joyful and peaceful. If that means life for you goes on without me, I can live with that. From the moment I was arrested, every decision I made was to protect you and mom. I’m not proud of the decisions and behavior that led me here, but I look myself in the mirror every morning with a clear conscience knowing at the worst moment in my life, I did the truly selfless, loving things necessary to take of you three. You may not realize it now, you may never admit it to me, but it’s the truth.


And, truth is a funny thing. I’ve heard a great deal about lying and how important honesty is. Ironically, the people who talk the most about honesty, the people who tell you over and over how truthful they are, end up being the very people who can’t deal with honesty and who lie to themselves.


This experience has, in many ways, been liberating for me. Everything about my life is now an open book. Most people can’t say that. They hide behind secrets and pray no one finds out. Here’s the thing – everyone lies, everyone keeps secrets. Honesty is hard. Anyone who tells you otherwise is lying.


I’m not suggesting it’s OK to lie. But, before you hold your head up proud as a peacock and tell everyone how important honesty is, think back on all the little white lies you’ve told.


There are however, five traits that I think matter a great deal more.


They are courage, mercy, forgiveness, love and hope.


Courage means doing the right thing, doing the selfless thing, when everything is on the line and you’re afraid, so afraid that you can’t even see straight; yet, you still find the inner strength to do what has to be done even if it costs you everything. And, you hold no grudge. You don’t look back.


And boys, there are damn few people who are courageous. If you want to learn about courage, read about people who have been on the brink of losing all yet didn’t give up. It’s not courageous to get up, go to work, and be an honorable person. That’s expected. What is courageous is admitting when you’ve done wrong and willingly accept the consequences. It may not always seem fair, but no one ever said life was fair.


Courage means fighting through and overcoming fear and despair. My hope and prayer for you is you never have to come face to face with your or your family’s entire life at stake. But if you do, I know you’ll act courageously.


I never considered myself courageous. Fact is, I always felt like a chicken. But when things mattered most I found courage, I took more than my share of punishment. Almost everyone that claimed to love and care about me abandoned me. And still, I stood up and made sure you guys and mom would be protected. A great many people think I was foolish handling things the way I did. Even having gone through this, I’d still do the same thing today.


Mercy is so important and in such short supply. It literally means showing compassion to an offender. Here’s the thing. We all offend. We all hurt someone we care for. Mercy boils down to kindness, simply treating someone the way you’d want to be treated if you were in their shoes.


When I was in the jail, a young black man (your age “D”) came in strung out on heroin. I didn’t even know heroin addiction existed. I thought it was a 60’s and 70’s problem. Anyway, this kid was sick, as physically ill as anyone I’d ever seen. They couldn’t put him in a cell because he was constantly vomiting and losing bowel control. They left him on a cot in the middle of the day room with a bucket to puke in and soiled sheets.


His body physically craved heroin. It was, perhaps one of the saddest things I’d ever seen. This young man, shivering and sweating, unable to hold any food down, covered in his own waste. I sat daily with that kid. I made sure the staff got him clean linens and the nurses brought his medicine to him.


I’m not quite sure why I did it, I just know we spend way too much time judging and condemning each other when we should be offering a helping hand. I’ve spend a good deal of time reading and trying to understand the Bible. A great deal in there is about how we treat others is how God will ultimately judge us. I’ve learned it’s easy to think yourself superior, free of human failings and weaknesses. The fact is, we all screw up and we all need someone to lean on.


And mercy goes hand in hand with forgiveness. Boys, if you never listen to anything else I say, listen to this: always forgive. It is the toughest thing to do, and the most necessary, at least if you truly believe you’re a Christian.


When Jesus told Peter to forgive his brother seventy times seven, He meant it. Don’t hold anger, don’t be bitter. Forgive. We always want to condition our forgiveness, “If you do this, then I’ll forgive you”. Or, we say “I forgive, but I’ll never forget”. That’s not forgiveness, boys. Forgiveness is letting go, saying its over and forgotten. It’s about restoration and reconciliation of broken lives, broken relationships. It’s damn hard, probably the hardest thing you’ll ever do – I know. It’s also necessary.


For me, it boils down to this: “as God forgave you, so forgive others”.


Love goes hand in hand with all of this. But be careful. We say “I love you” way too easily when we don’t mean it. Love can overcome anything. Ultimately, life comes down to love.


I don’t buy the line “I used to love you, but I don’t anymore”. If that’s the case, it wasn’t really love. People we love hurt us. I’ve been on both ends of that as well.


I returned my wedding ring to mom. She told me I could keep it, but I didn’t see the reason. A wedding ring has no beginning, no end. It is given to represent complete, whole love. There’s a reason Jesus spoke over and over about not divorcing. Couples are supposed to love each other the way God loves us – unconditionally, even when we screw up. That’s what the vows mean.


Can you imagine God ever saying “I don’t love you anymore?” God wouldn’t do that. He loves us in spite of our failings. He never gives up on us. And, if we believe in Him, we are supposed to love the same way.


I’ll always love your mom and every day I’ll thank God for the time we had together and I’ll pray she is happy. I wish she hadn’t divorced me, wished she thought we could survive this. But, loving her means accepting what she’s done even when it broke my heart. She’s a wonderful woman and I feel truly blessed to have had her in my life.


Love is wonderful, but it’s also tough, the toughest thing there is. It requires patience, understanding and commitment. Most of all, it never gives up.


Finally boys, there’s hope. Hope is the same as faith. It’s knowing when you go through the valleys of life’s disappointment, failures, heartache, and loss that you’re not alone and you’ll get through.


I’ve had amazing experiences in my life. Some days seemed better than I could have ever imagined like the days you both were born. But other days have been worse than I can even express. And I won’t kid you and say I just got through them. I didn’t. I wondered how I’d make it and even if it was worth it. It was in those darkest, loneliest moments I found my faith and hope.


There’s a great Bible verse from Paul’s letter to the Romans in chapter 5, that I recite daily. It goes:


“…we also exult in our tribulations knowing that tribulation brings about perseverance; and perseverance, proven character, and proven character, hope; and hope does not disappoint . . .”


I try to live each day by those words.


No matter how bad things appear, no matter how lost everything seems, there is always tomorrow. You take each day as it comes and keep fighting, keep praying.


I have found so many blessings through this experience. I wish things were different, wish we were together as a family, wish mom and I were still married. Yet, still I am blessed.


Nothing that has happened, nothing that you do, will stop me from loving you. I’ve always loved you and always will. Just as with mom, even though we are apart, you remain in my constant thoughts and prayers.


Be kind to each other. Love and care for each other and your mom.


You are the greatest blessing and joy in my life.


Love,


Dad