Not Home for the Holidays

The holidays were always the worst time to be locked up. You knew that outside the prison, people were preparing for fun with their families: shopping for gifts, preparing menus, early dinners with small children racing around tables with one another. Overeating the same family recipes that had survived generations. At least for some families that was true.

Around this time, in prison, friendships never meant more, because these friendships were your family. When asked about my prison experience, people are most surprised that in addition to all the awful aspects of the experience, they’re surprised to learn that true friendships were forged, tears were shared, laughter was cherished.

For me, being locked up alone would have been unthinkable. But all of those I’ve ever spoken to who have done time agree on one thing: it’s the wives who’ve had it the worst. (More than 90% of those incarcerated are men.)

Almost all of men’s needs are attended to: meals, medications, doctors, clothing, housing, pretty much everything. Meanwhile, their significant others (and their kids) are left to fend for themselves, without the comfort and support of the one you love.

As bad as prison may be, there is no shortage of company. At home, there’s a woman who can’t help but wonder how this month’s utility bill will be paid, how they’ll be food on the table, and how she’ll be able to buy at least one toy each for her four kids. It’s been this way for the past eight years and will be this way for the next 12.

The holidays used to be a time she looked forward to. Now she hopes they will pass quickly so she can once again be together for the holidays.