Today was mostly a good day. No traumatic changes, no serious illnesses in the house, besides the tonsilitis still present in my throat. And to my relief, no major meltdowns in the toddler department. But then, it was only a catagory 2 hurricane by the time it hit the eastern coast, and by all appearances it should have been an aweful day.
For the first time in several weeks, being completely beside myself with thoughts of which could turn the heads of psycholgists worldwide, I cried for lack of answers, and lonliness from which I can only compare to the aftermath of a voilent removal of a loved one from my life .Only twice in one day. Which actually works out to be a great ratio compared to the daily turmoil I faced just one year ago.
Without going into the lengthy details, I must state that my life is hard. (Poor me blah blah blah) and painful, and it just plain sucks to be me, all around, all the time. Unless some sort of great adventure has magically made itself available, to distract me for a few hours, which makes it all subside for a bit. I am insanely good at becoming distractingly happy, when necessary.
I wrote to the judge today, the one who sentenced the love of my life to 18 months imprisonment for drug trafficking. The one whom just one year ago, made eye contact with me, his mother, his father, his step mother, his sister, my two best friends, his prosecutor, and his lousy attorney, and more than figuratively ripped off the bandage of hope I had securely placed on my heart that morning.
After signing the letter, I became errily aware of the fact that this honorable woman, would never in her right mind answer to my plea in any way. In this instant, I cried like a child, pleaded to god to make it right, wiped the snot off my face, and proceeded to smoke another cigarette. Tonsilitis or not, I felt like needed it.
He was not, and wouldnt be if he were here now, a bad father. Bad decision maker, perhaps. And most certainly the first person to come up with a quick solution to some nameless problem.
He doesn't deserve such harsh and inhumane treatment. The punishment has long outweighed the crime. A crime of which was so vague and so "last resort", it sickens me to know just how many of the other people involved, are free to run the streets, while this wonderful man, is bound beyond belief to the mistakes of his past. But who am I to make the last 5 years of his life suddenly make sense to complete strangers? Who the hell am I to question the integrity of a federally appointed judge?
When we fell in love, I believed in nothing at all really, just as immature as ever, and love stricken like a fool. He was your average older man, taken by my youthfulness, and painfully susceptable to the dangers of drug abuse, and the false sense of security left behind by the last 8 years of his employment.
The only clear memory I have of those first few months, is the eyes of our child staring at me from behind his. More than 6 years later, I get to see them every day. She will be 3 years old this coming January. And despite the fact that she was a mere 14 months old when he kissed her goodbye the morning of his preliminary hearing, she can still pick him out of the old pictures I have hanging on our bedroom wall. And god forbid I try to go out the front door without a fight.
I cannot possibly explain to anyone how this whole ordeal has stripped me of every single layer of confidence I ever had the privilege of carrying. No amount of restitution can ever bring back what I once had in that tiny home, equipped with a koi pond and a wrap around backyard deck. Not so sure I would even want that life back with all the grief it has inevitably caused us.
There is no prison sentence made for good fathers who make bad decisions.
There are no rights for legal non-citizens who were brought to this country as a small child.
There is no justice for the beautiful little girl with no daddy to hold her head above the water.
There is only the promise of an unfair judgement, which translates to "the greater good".
He told me, about a week before he was moved into a county prison to await his removal, that if being free meant that he wouldn't have my daughter and I, he would do it all again just the same.
Before the DEA revealed to us the sickening complexity of my cousins' operations, we always believed we had already hit rock bottom and were now on our way back up to where we aspired to be. We also believed in justice, and kharma too. But that was all wrong.
This is just the beginning of the most horrifying nightmare my mind could ever imagine.
