ALMOST NEW YEAR'S

We had such an awesome weekend...we don't usually get two visits back to back, but I had a bad feeling Thursday night that told me not to go on Friday (which was the original plan).  It turns out that my feeling was right: They had an accident in the visitation waiting area where the emergency pepper sprays diffused. I'm glad I missed that!  So, I visited Saturday and Sunday. We missed each other terribly Sunday night and today. I know it will be even worse by the end of next weekend since I will be visiting twice more. Four visits in nine days will be so great, but it makes it that much more painful.

The good news is, it's almost January! We are hoping to hear from the parole board in January, so with each day that passes, we both grow more and more excited.  Of course I will post once I get the news.

HOLIDAY BLUES AND LOCKED DOWN AGAIN

We still have not heard from the parole board, so I'm expecting something in January (if they are not backlogged).  It's been October since they received Jason's file for parole consideration.  His dorm has been locked down since Thursday...I have no idea why and probably won't get any details until they are out and I have heard from him.

I've been having the holiday blues, and this just makes it worse.  I hate going days with no contact, and I know he is stuck in his cell with nobody to talk to but his roommate.  At least this time he has some books to read.

I need him to come home.  I really do.  I was hoping some way some how they would let him come home before Christmas.  That might still happen...Of course, I will post here as soon as I hear something!

HURRY UP AND WAIT...

Being stuck in waiting mode is very frustrating.  Knowing that Jason could literally be home any day but that his file has still not been sent due to administrative drag is upsetting to me, to say the least.  For over a week now, Jason's counselor has been trying to meet with him to finalize his file so that it can be sent to the Parole Board.  Well, last Friday she had off.  Then on Monday she saw him and said she would send for him on Tuesday.  Tuesday came and went.  Wednesday, she got pulled away from her duties to distribute food packages, as the prison is as always short-staffed.  Thursday, the counselor sent for him, but the officer in his area never gave him the message to come to the counselor's office because he was too lazy to deliver the message to him.  And alas here we are back at Friday when the counselor doesn't work.  Apparently many people there only work 4-day weeks, and they're constantly being pulled in other directions to cover for areas where there is a staffing shortage, so basically nothing gets done or it literally takes forever.

I'm trying to be patient.  Jason keeps telling me to be patient.  I respond in typical fashion that I have been waiting YEARS, and that it is now just a matter of someone sending something along on his behalf that could be his ticket home.  I've lost patience.  I'm ready.  He's ready.  Let's do this already!

THE PROCESS HAS BEGUN!

Finally, Jason received word today that the Parole Board has requested his file/parole summary from his counselor.  Yay!  This is the first step in the parole process.  Once the parole summary is complete (which his counselor said would probably not be until the end of October), the Parole Board will make the decision of whether to parole him or not.  I just KNOW they will, given his unique circumstances.  :D  I'm still in shock.  We've waited for this for what seems like forever.  He is afraid to hope, afraid that he will be let down, so he's trying not to think about it at all.  I told him to do whatever he wants to make himself feel better.  I have enough hope for the both of us! <3

PAROLE ELIGIBLE!

Yes!  It's official...Jason is finally parole eligible!  I'm praying that they will grant him parole soon.  In the meantime, I am headed to Atlanta this Friday for the Georgia Department of Corrections' Family Day where we can speak with the warden and other GDOC representatives.  To my knowledge, this only happens one day out of the year, so I'm on it!  I've been waiting a long time.  You can NEVER get in touch with the warden.  I believe it is set up that way on purpose:  He has no voice mail, no email, and you cannot leave a message to have him call you back, and of course he is never available when you call.  I have faxed him and send him snail mail letters without response, as well.  So, this will be a very important meeting for us.  There are four things that Jason has specifically asked me to address:

1.  Ask for information on programs for life sentences.

2.  How are we supposed to order books?  A little background on this...there is very little that prisoners are allowed to receive, and it must always come through a third party source.  They used to allow books to be sent in to prisoners through Amazon, but they have now put a stop to that, for God only knows what reason.  They expect inmates to now purchase books using the money they have on their accounts (provided by their family) which we cannot figure out, since this isn't the 70s when you could place book orders from a catalog.  I truly don't think such a book store exists.

3.  Discuss the many visitation issues/problems with the warden.

4.  Safety concerns, particularly about gang violence getting out of control.  Jason is not in a gang, but non-gang members suffer, too.  Sometimes they get caught in the cross-fire, or they are punished for things that gang members do to each other (like last week's 7-day lock-down).

I was at visitation on Sunday, and in line for almost an hour.  The visitors typically end up discussing prison topics during this time, and I was enlightened about rumors such as families will soon be required to supply toilet paper--really?  I thought it was ridiculous when Jason told me that the inmates were required to bring their own spoons to "chow," as the prison did not supply them.  I said "Plastic spoons?"  Yep--plastic spoons.  I already know that he has to pay for his medicine and doctor visits, when they allow him to be seen.

If I hear one more person talking about how good inmates have it...

PSEUDO-FREEDOM!

Yay!  The 7-day lock down has ended.  My sweet is free to roam the dorm.  And shower.  And get decent (by prison standards) food.  :D  I'm so happy I could cry!  Oh wait...I did cry.  LOL

So here's the scoop:  Apparently there is a new law in the state of Georgia where if there is a gang-related fight (and that is a term used loosely), there will be a mandatory 7-day lock down of the entire dorm.  And gang can be defined as real Crips versus Bloods type of violence or anything more than one-on-one fighting. Sigh.  Is it just me or does it seem like they never solve the problem, they just make things worse for all?  Contrary to popular belief, peer pressure does not work in a prison setting, so punishing everyone for the actions of one, or more than two as it were, does nothing but punish those who are unlucky enough to cohabit in the same dorm.

Even as I'm writing this, I can hear the collective sound of apathy.  Unless you have been in a prison or have a loved one who is, the issue of humane treatment of prisoners is probably pretty low on your priority list.  After re-posting a video on Facebook yesterday that I ultimately had to take down, it really hit home with me that there are so many people in this country who either just don't get it or just don't care.  That pains me because not only is the love of my life in prison for something he didn't do, but he has also met other "good" guys in there who have helped him, and I feel for them, as well.  Nobody should be treated the way they are.

So this brings up the debate:  Government says that people are imprisoned to rehabilitate them, not punish them.  Studies prove that their intentions are suffering miserably.  And I agree that there are guilty prisoners who have committed heinous acts, and I want those people to stay in there.  But even before Jason's unfortunate situation I have always disagreed with capital punishment because there are SO MANY INNOCENT PEOPLE IN PRISON.  Unless someone confesses or there is irrefutable evidence (like video of them carrying out the crime), you cannot be certain.  I would rather let a few guilty go free than to put to death even one innocent person.  I'm sure a lot of people would disagree.  I can't even entertain the thought of what would have happened if Jason had gotten the death penalty.  No, we won't go there...

Though it may be unpopular to do so, I will continue to try to bring light to the plight of prisoners in the US.  I understand that there are some prisons here that do treat inmates well.  But I think the vast majority do not.  Imagine for a moment that you were locked down for 7 days in the Georgia heat with no air flow, only one shower in that seven-day period, eating food that is so bad you would rather not eat at all, no cold clean water to drink, as you are punished for something you didn't do.  You have nothing to do except to talk to your bunk mate, and you are in a tiny space.  You can't communicate with or see your loved ones.

Jason said it was as bad as being in the hole.  The hole is solitary confinement.  I told him about that Facebook post, and that I had shown the video to let people know that prisoners do not have it as good as they think they do, as I see people posting all the time on Facebook how well they think prisoners are treated.  For the first time ever in the smallest voice I have ever heard him use I heard, "They REALLY think that?"  It broke my heart to hear the hurt and disbelief in his voice.  And then I changed the topic.

AND IT ONLY GOT WORSE

Well, it is now Tuesday.  From what I understand, Jason is still on lock down.  When will it end?  I have no idea.  I am despondent.  And I'm worried about him...

Did I mention I don't have much support?  Other than my friends, I don't get many pep talks or much support regarding my situation with Jason.  I rarely hear from Jason's family and never from his friends.  I don't have much family myself, but the family I do have either avoids the issue or flat out tells me I'm wrong.  If I didn't have good friends who were always there for me, checking in on Jason's status and listening to me when I vent, I would probably go insane.  My friends are the best!

There are people who actually make things worse.  Right now I'm questioning whether it is me being oversensitive, or if there really are several people in our inner circle who enjoy talking down to me or who genuinely think I'm stupid.  Of course these are typically people who aren't there for us, anyway, so I tell myself their opinions shouldn't count.  I try not to dwell on negative and focus instead on positive.  But they come around from time to time being judgmental or treating me like I'm an idiot.  The adult in me says to just ignore them, but this is becoming a recurring source of irritation for me.  And in my mind I'm also to the point of saying something to the effect of "If you're not here to help, leave me alone."  

What do you think?

WHAT A TERRIBLE WEEK

As you know, I have been waiting a long time for July to arrive!  It was very disappointing when Jason told me he spoke with the counselor and she still could not confirm or deny that he is eligible for parole this month.  Really?  It's been months since he asked her to check into and verify it.  So she told him she would have to "check with the parole board."  Well, good luck with that, since they seem to be an entity that can only be found on an entirely separate plane of existence.  Ugh.  This brought up all sorts of negative feelings for me...fears really.  What if he's not eligible until January?  What if January comes and he is denied?  WHAT IF HE NEVER COMES HOME?  But I can't think like that.  Not and keep functioning, anyway.  So I pepped myself back up, put on my positive hat and kept going.  Until today...

No call from Jason.  Well THAT never happens.  It's extremely rare.  There's only one good reason he would not call, and that would be if he were being transferred to a transitional center or was released.  It wasn't that.  I called the prison and asked if any of the dorms were on lock down.  Of course, his dorm is.  Why is that so distressing?  Because it is a 3-day weekend, and I was planning on visiting him tomorrow (4th of July) and Sunday, too.  At that point I was trying not to panic.  Sometimes lock downs don't last very long.  Unfortunately, a dear friend and fellow visitor texted me a bit later to let me know that the warden of security told her his dorm would be on lock down ALL WEEKEND.  There goes my weekend.  :*(  We very rarely get 3-day visit weekends.  Visitation is only on weekends and holidays.  And I am 99.9999999% sure that Jason had no part in the cause for this lock down (which was a fight).  Typically when things happen in his dorm he is at work.  But they all get punished, and in this case friends and family are punished, too.  He is miserable.  I know he is.  He does not know that I know why he didn't call, so he is imagining that I am freaking out.  He's probably to the point of vomiting if he hasn't done so already (his reaction to stress). And he is hot.  So hot, because when they lock down, they lock them in their cells, and they don't have doors like you see in the movies that are made of bars.  No.  They are solid doors with glass windows.  No ventilation.  And it is hot.  Georgia summer heat kind of hot.  And there is nothing to do in his cell.  No TV. No card playing.  I think, and I hope, he has a book to read to get him through the weekend, but I am not sure.  No phone calls.  No visits.  Nothing.  My baby is suffering.  Alone.  All I can do now is pray that by some miracle they change their minds and stop the lock down before the weekend--and visitation--is through.

And he does not do well when he has to go two weeks without seeing me.  Time in there is like an eternity.  But I am powerless.  And sad and lonely without him, too.  This has to end soon.

TOMORROW IS JULY

So, tomorrow is July...finally!  The time we for which we have waited so long and impatiently.  I really thought I would feel more excited today, but I am actually having quite a down day.  Jason has been very sick.  In fact, I had to leave visitation early yesterday because he was so ill.  Everyone thinks that prisoners get medical care, but they really don't.  I've been asking him for days to put in to see the doctor, but he keeps telling me that it would be at least two weeks before he would be seen.  They can't just "go" to the doctor.  They must put in a request, and then it takes a long time for them to be "called out" to come and be seen.  And in the meantime?  He has no decongestants, no Advil, no effective allergy medicine.  It pisses me off and it makes me sad.  My baby has been suffering with fever, sleeplessness and symptoms of earache with head/chest congestion in the middle of the Georgia summer with no air conditioning.  He's been sick enough that he hasn't gone to work in several days.

Starting tomorrow, he could be freed any day.  I have not received a response yet from the letter I sent to the Governor almost two weeks ago.  Not a surprise.  It seems I never receive a response from anyone.  I'm in a constant state of waiting.  I'm so tired of waiting.  This has not been a good day. :(

I am ready for him to come home now.

"The world moves for love.  It knees before it in awe." ~The Village

HOW WE SURVIVE OUR LONG DISTANCE RELATIONSHIP

It has been 10 years that Jason and I have been doing the "prison" relationship.  Of course we wouldn't wish it on anyone, but I would rather be with him in this terrible situation than be in a normal situation with someone else.  So we do what we have to in order to make it work.  I have boxes and boxes of letters. They won't let him keep all the letters I have sent him, so periodically he sends mine back to me.  Being able to talk helps, too, and I think our weekly visits have saved our sanity.  It makes everything seem more day-to-day, although we know it's not.

During visitation we are always in our own little bubble, and I'm very good at blocking out everything around us.  Unfortunately, Jason  has ADD, so it's not as easy for him, but he does pretty well given the circumstances.  We will sit and talk and laugh for hours, the only difficulty for me being the constant reminder that we are not allowed to touch each other.  Neither of us get enough hugs every day.  I think you're supposed to get 12 or some random number like that.  But I did read that if you hug someone for 20 seconds or more, the "love potion" oxytocin is released from the brain.  Jason is a hugger, so after I told him that, he was always sure to hug me for at least 20 seconds at the end of visitation.

We are both writers, although I would say he is the best story-teller.  We use our talents to keep things exciting.  Sometimes we write stories back and forth, where one person begins the story (and we are always the main characters) and sends it in the mail, then the other person will write the next scene, and send it back.  Our stories always have sex in them--hey, it's our only outlet!  It's fun to see where the story goes based on who is writing the scene.  Or sometimes we will assign each other a topic to write about.  My favorite was called FIRST DAY PASS.  We had hoped that he would be put into a transitional program where the inmates are allowed day passes, and I wrote a very detailed story of what I imagined that would be like for us.  Seeing his first moments of freedom is what I am living for!  And food...that's a major source of longing for Jason.  The food there is so terrible that it's usually inedible.  He misses simple things that we take for granted like salads and fresh fruit.

We've bonded every way that we can, with him even joining my business!  He has sold a few Origami Owl lockets for me (inmates wanting to buy for their mothers, daughters, or significant others), and now I am trying to get an It Works! business going for him so that when he gets home, he will already have a job in place.  My ultimate goal is for us to work together and have tons of free time to make up for all the time that we have missed together.

Finally, as strange as this might sound to you, we try to meet each other in dreams every night.  I didn't know this was possible before I met Jason, but brain waves travel for miles when you're asleep and dreaming, and you can share lucid dreams.  It has taken me a while to get the hang of it, but we have tested it and know that it's not just our imaginations but that we are actually able to interact in our dreams.  For example, I won't tell him what "sign" I put into the dream so that he can tell it's really me and not just his subconscious version of me.  I chose wearing a green wig, something that he would not coincidentally dream of, and then he told me he had a dream about me the night before, and that I was wearing a green wig!  Fascinating stuff...I still don't know how all of that works, but it does.  We have a meeting place where we try to find each other in dreams, and then I usually let him take over the dream from there.  I don't care what we do, as long as we are together.  Most days I just wish that we could be in the pillow pool, pictured here.

LEGAL CONFUSION AND THE "MISSING" YEARS

For three and a half years, Jason and I wrote letters and occasionally talked on the phone.  He was located in a prison quite a distance away, and with me having a young child at that time, it never worked out for me to visit.  In the beginning, Jason had put his faith in the appellate system and habeas corpus.  Looking back, I can tell you this:  While Jason waited for someone from his family to go talk to his attorneys, things slipped through the cracks.  We are still not sure what happened with his appeal, though we know it was denied.  Jason's family, having been financially ruined from paying for FOUR criminal trials and emotionally drained after losing him to the system, dropped the legal ball so to speak.  During this period, Jason had high hopes that something would turn out for him.  There's really not much to say except that we were both waiting for that "something" to happen, but it never did.

Toward the end of this phase, Jason and I were still in contact, but I was beginning to lose hope and pull away emotionally.  Our letters and calls got fewer and fewer.  I was struggling with wanting to be there for him, but I was sick about facing a life alone.  On some days I feared he would never come home.

In the beginning of 2008, I moved, and though Jason said he wrote me 30 letters after that, but I never received any.  Not one.  I had had a health scare around that time, and I would later find out that since he never heard from me (I had not received his letters and thus had nothing to respond to), he feared the worst...that I had died.  I thought he had simply pulled away from me.  Though I was sad, I understood how difficult it must be for him.  The three and a half years to come we now refer to as the "missing" years.

Chapter 3...

Our story begins again!  In August of 2011, out of the blue I heard from him.  I can't explain how happy I was.  Or how happy he was!  Within 24 hours we picked up right where we had left off.  It was as if no time had passed, and our love was stronger than ever.  He had been in prison at this point for 10 years, and one of the sweetest things he ever said to me was that he would "pull another 10 if he would end up with me."  I told him to bite his tongue!  He told me that it would likely be 3-1/2 years until he was up for parole, but I was ready to wait.  We had something to cling to, something to look forward to.  He moved to a closer prison, one that's only about an hour drive away, so I go and visit him every weekend.  We still write letters, but we talk on the phone more.  It's easier in a way than it was in chapter 2 of our story because with seeing him every week, we really are sharing each others' lives.  I've even gotten to know his son, who I take to visit him on occasion.

I found out that nothing had ever happened with his case from a legal standpoint, and I attacked it from every angle I could.  I met with several attorneys to discuss clemency, habeas corpus, and I even went to the courthouse and read the entire trial 4 transcript.  What I found out was that his attorneys had DESTROYED all of his files.  Everything gone.  And they were within their legal right, as they only are required to retain it for 8 years.  This blew my mind.  And put us back to square one.  So, if we wanted to pursue habeas corpus, it was cost a minimum of $15,000 to retain the attorney, and since they would be starting from scratch, having only the trial transcript to start from, it could cost more.

Not having any money, I did the only thing I could.  I filed for clemency on his behalf.  This was filed December 1, 2012, and has yet to be addressed by the parole board.  According to the State Board of Pardons and Paroles website, they have six months to investigate the clemency plea and come to a decision. In May of 2013, Jason's prison file was requested, and he was scheduled to be interviewed by the clemency investigator.  However, that interview was canceled (along with all other interviews scheduled at the prison) and has never been rescheduled.  We think his file is sitting somewhere on someone's desk, forgotten.  I have called, written letters, and emailed everyone from the warden to the Governor, and I cannot get any kind of response regarding this.

So now we are patiently waiting for him to come up for parole.  He was initially eligible in January of 2015, but with a new bill that passed a couple of years ago, he comes up six months early, which is next month--July of 2014!  I am praying that they release him, as we still do not have the money to hire the attorney for habeas corpus.  He could be home any day now.  It seems like it has been such a long road, and we are now finally at the end, ready to begin our Happily Ever After.

The hardest part for me is probably the lack of physical contact.  We can't touch during visits, except saying hello and goodbye.  And the loneliest part of my day is when I lie down in bed at night, wishing he were snuggled up with me.  The hardest part for him at the moment is the unbearable heat.  There is no air conditioning there, and the Georgia summers are torture.  They are not even allowed to go shirtless, so the heat is stifling.  There are so many things I can't wait for him to have and experience when he comes home!

Jason & Michelle Chapter 2

In 2003, I had a couple of major things happen that changed everything.  First, my mother--who was my best friend--was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer at the very young age of 52.  She and I had always been close, and though I only lived 45 minutes from her, I would typically spend weekends at her house, taking my then 5-year-old daughter with me, and often my ex-husband, too.  It was my home away from home, or really as if I had never left my mom.  I know that most mothers and daughters are not this close, but my mother was special.  They say that soul mates come in many forms, and I believe that my mother was one for me.

As soon as she told me, I knew she was going to die.  Even before I looked up the statistics that tell you only 1% of people diagnosed with pancreatic cancer will live one year past diagnosis, I had that terrible sixth sense that she would not make it, though I prayed every single day that she would.  I felt like I had when I lost Jason--like every day my job was to just continue trying to breathe.  I had a little one to take care of, a job, a home.  I had to put one foot in front of the other as each day I watched my dear momma wasting away.

A few months after her diagnosis, I found out that my ex-husband was cheating on me.  In fact, he had been having an affair for about six months when I found out.  Him having an affair was painful, but I think what hurt worse than that was that I needed him and his support to get through my mother's illness.  I had nobody else to lean on.  I hadn't talked to Jason in years, I spent all my free time with my mom, my child and my ex.  I found myself in a black hole, all alone.  I know the only thing that kept me going through those dark days was the knowledge that I had to be there for my daughter.  Facing a future without my mother was so bleak.

In early 2004, I made the decision to leave my ex-husband and got an apartment for myself and my daughter.  It was the only thing I could do to help my peace of mind.  I wanted to get away from him, and had my mother been healthy, I would have gone to stay with her, but I didn't want to bring any extra stress to her life.  She did not need the extra burden.  I sent off a letter to Jason to the last known address I had for him (I believe it was the prison where everyone is first sent once they begin their sentence), but I didn't get a response.  For a few months things were on an even keel.  Mom even seemed like she might be improving, though she had wasted away to 86 pounds.  Then I got the call...

She was gone, at the age of 53.  I was so happy that she was not suffering anymore, because I knew how terribly she suffered.  But the selfish part of me wanted her with me.  I functioned the only way I knew how--autopilot and working as much as possible.  This was the beginning of a 2-1/2 year period of clinical depression for me.

The following week, I held a memorial service for her.  I was literally on my way to the funeral home when I stopped to get my mail.  This was no coincidence:  There was a letter from Jason.  After years of hoping and waiting to get word from him, if only to know that he was okay, I finally heard from him...and on the day I needed it most.  It gave me strength immediately.  I was no longer alone.  I believe with my whole heart that my sweet mother had a hand in this somehow.  The timing was just too precise.  She was there for me when I lost him, and he was there for me when I lost her.

We sent letters every day, catching up, reminiscing, commiserating, and falling in love all over again.  He told me about the craziness that his life had turned into, and I filled him in on mine.  I gave him support, and he cheered me up, and we made plans for a future together.  It was exactly 10 years ago today that I received that first letter.  Hard to believe it's been so long, and yet sometimes it seems like a million years!

p.s.  Feel free to post questions or comments if you like.

The night the lights went out in Georgia

It was about six months after the breakup when I was driving in my car, running an errand for my day job.  Over the radio I heard the craziest thing I ever thought I would.  They said Jason had been arrested for the alleged murder of a 19-month-old.  No details.  I think I stopped breathing for a second when I heard that.  I knew it was MY Jason, because of his age and the location, but I also knew with absolute certainty that he was incapable of such.  

Jason is the oldest of 3 boys, and he grew up in a home where his mother ran a daycare, so he had always been surrounded by young children.  In fact, he loved kids so much that when we were dating he begged me one night to have his child!  I had been sure that I never wanted to be a mom, having no maternal instincts myself, and being the baby of my family, I had not been around kids much, but he assured me that he would take care of our baby.  I had seen his wonderful interaction with his own baby, and I knew what an awesome father he was, how much he loved children, and for a moment I considered his request.  Unfortunately, that was not in the cards for us.  Anyone who knows Jason will tell you that he is the most gentle soul you will ever meet.  Luckily for him, he was raised a rough a tumble boy, always playing football and other sports (which would prepare him for the hard road ahead, having to defend himself), but he was not a fighter, and I had never--not one single time--seen him even get angry with anyone.  When Jason gets angry, you get a cold stare, and he walks away.  The thought that he could harm anyone, let alone a toddler, was inconceivable. 

Back in those days, we didn't have cell phones.  We didn't have Facebook.  If your phone line was disconnected, you pretty much lost touch.  That was what had happened with us.  I had no way to contact him, to comfort him, to give him my support.  The only way I got information was on the news or in the newspaper.  I have now been able to fully investigate and fill in the blanks, I have read trial transcripts and spoken to people who attended his trials, and have even spoken with the child's mother, and here is that story:

A child's death is one of the most horrible things imaginable, and my heart goes out to everyone who loved this child.  The short of it is that Jason was in the wrong place at the wrong time.  He was babysitting while the mother was at work.  When he went upstairs to check on the child, she was turning blue in her crib.  I believe a friend who was with him called 911 while Jason attempted CPR.  Unfortunately, the baby died on the way to the hospital.  

Jason was charged with murder despite the fact that there was no weapon, no motive, no confession, no witness, nothing at all to indicate that he had any part of this poor child's death. As I said, simply wrong place/wrong time.  Now for the crazy legal road he was forced to travel...

I have asked him a million times why he put his faith and trust in the judicial system as he did. All he can say is that he knew he was innocent, and he thought that there was no way they would convict an innocent man.  On the surface with no evidence, I might have been inclined to agree with him.  But since the advent of DNA testing, tens of thousands of innocent poor souls have been freed from prison.  Unfortunately, Jason's case is not a DNA case.   So here's the kicker: Jason was tried FOUR TIMES.  That's right, four times.  I didn't even know that was legal.  It should not be legal.  In some states it is not legal.  But in Georgia, you can try someone for the same crime an unlimited number of times until a verdict is reached. For his first three trials, it was a hung jury.  Important facts to come out of these trials is that (1) The autopsy performed on the baby was the physician's FIRST UNSUPERVISED AUTOPSY. Really?  Something that important (an alleged homicide), and you're going to put it in the hands of an inexperienced, unsupervised physician? and (2) someone from the GBI Crime Lab testified on Jason's behalf that if they had done that autopsy, they would NOT have ruled it a homicide.  Okay, there's nothing else to know.  There was no other damning evidence, no skeletons brought out of the closet.  In fact, the "victim's" mother testified on Jason's behalf, as well as the mother's family. They had known Jason for YEARS.  

So what do we think really happened?  They know that the baby fell and hit her head on concrete the day before.  The day of her death, she hit her head again going through a doorway on the door frame while being carried on her mother's hip.  Two head traumas in a very short time period, both while not in Jason's care. Cause of death was determined to be blunt force trauma to the head.  Head injuries can manifest symptoms many hours after the injury.  Medical experts testified to this on Jason's behalf.  Unfortunately, the baby was not showing signs at the time that she needed medical attention, just being whiny and crying as kids often do when they bump their heads.  I'm sure many parents can relate. 

After the third trial ended with a hung jury yet again, I thought surely the DA would drop it.  There was never any new evidence, the child's family didn't want another trial, and there was no reason to believe that a fourth trial would end any differently.  I was not in attendance, but people who were have told me that the presiding judge told the DA not to bring the case back into his courtroom without new evidence.  Yet somehow Jason was made to go through a fourth trial.  This time he was convicted.  How?  I'm not sure.  I do know from reading the entire fourth trial transcript that his attorneys did not bring up the fact that the autopsy was this physician's first unsupervised autopsy, nor was the testimony for the defense by the person who worked for the GBI crime lab brought up.  That amazes me.  Without those important facts being brought up, it was just anybody's guess what had happened, and he must have gotten a bad jury.  If I am ever on any jury, I will not convict anyone without sufficient evidence.  

I got the news via a TV news blurb in February of 2001.  I was in graduate school at the time and spent a lot of time at my mom's house, which was only 10 minutes from the University.  I was getting ready to go to my evening class, and as soon as I heard he was convicted and sentenced to life in prison, I lost it--literally.  Luckily my mother happened to arrive home about 5 minutes after, finding me in a heap on the floor, inconsolable.  I don't even remember how I got out what was wrong, but she somehow pieced it together and calmed me down, as only my momma could.  She knew that keeping me busy was the best thing for me, so she encouraged me to go on to my class.  I went, but after about five minutes of sitting there trying to act normal, I knew I couldn't do it.  My soul mate had just been convicted of a crime he did not commit, and had been sentenced to LIFE IN PRISON.  

In graduate school, you are not allowed to get anything but As and Bs.  If you get a C, you are on probation, more than one C (or any Ds or Fs) and you get kicked out of school.  So I dropped that class to maintain my GPA, and thank goodness it was an elective.  I wrote Jason a letter and sent it to the Columbia County jail where I knew he was, sadly finally having a way to reach him.  I did not hear back from him, and my heart ached every day.  I couldn't imagine was he was going through...My man with the gentle soul who couldn't stand to be alone, always the life of the party, always with friends or family, locked up...isolated in God only knew what conditions.  I was scared for him, sad for him, and just wished that I could do something. Anything.  But it would be a long time before I would know; I had to wait until our Chapter 2.

The breakup, also known as the end of Chapter 1

When I was young, I had a bit of a temper.  Jason got me over that in one heartbreaking minute.  We had an argument, the topic of which is irrelevant, but in that moment he saw something that scared him...He now jokes about it and says the "alien" came out of me.  I love to hear him make fun of this (now that we are reconciled) because he is the most fantastic story-teller, and it is so outlandish and ridiculous that it's hilarious!  He describes the alien that pops out of me complete with tentacles and provides sound effects.  At the time, however, all I could see what his seeming indifference to me.  I don't remember what was said exactly.  I know the result was that I broke up with him.  He was shocked.  And I didn't see him for 3 days after because he had gone out of town.  Of course, by the time he came back to town I had cooled off and tried to make things right, explaining why I had been so angry, that it was a misunderstanding, et cetera.  Although he heard me out and was never anything but polite to me, he was done.  I couldn't understand how someone who loved me so much could simply walk away and never look back.

It wasn't until years later that he told me he learned this ability from his father, having witnessed the ending and aftermath of a close friendship his father had with someone.  He described it to me like flipping a switch. Just done.  Over.  That's not how I'm made, so I struggled with this explanation.  Then he reminded me also that he had been 20 years old at the time, an immature guy who was scared at the deep feelings our relationship stirred in him.  

So here's what happened to me:  For a couple of weeks, I could barely function.  I kept telling people I was just trying to breathe.  Literally.  I didn't talk much about it.  I couldn't.  But at my day job I would suddenly break down for no reason at all, scaring my sweet 50-ish boss who was not used to witnessing such displays of emotion.  Someone that Jason and I both worked with came to my "rescue" and attempted to pick up the pieces.  Sadly for him, he had no idea what he was in for.  That person, who is now my ex-husband, would repeatedly tell me over the years that he thought I would just get over Jason in time.  After a couple of months he couldn't understand why I still cried myself to sleep every night.  He told me it was not normal.  I now realize I am not normal.  I was just dealing as best I could.  Then one day my mind had had enough.  

I woke up one day with dissociative amnesia.  Having already earned a B.A. in Psychology, I recognized immediately what had happened, although it was extremely frustrating and disconcerting.  I knew who Jason was.  I knew who I was and ultimately what had happened with us.  But I could not recall a single memory about our time together.  I would try to focus and force myself to recall anything, and it was as if an invisible wall would come up.  This is a coping mechanism.  Strangely it did not make me feel any better.  I was still sad, still devastated.  But not being able to remember was part of the healing process, I suppose.  It lasted about two months, and then very slowly over time my memories started to trickle back.  Even now I have not completely recovered those memories 100%.  I may have some bits and pieces, and I will ask him to fill in the rest for me.  

During this time, I would see Jason occasionally.  We no longer worked together but had common friends, and I would always get news through the grapevine.  His 21st birthday came and went, and I couldn't believe that I was not there to share it with him.  At this time I felt that there would never be a reconciliation for us. He had moved on in his way, and I was forcing myself to make a life without him.  Always empty without him.  That was the last time I saw him for quite some time, because something terrible was about to ROCK his world and take him away for a long time...

2nd entry (please read in order)

We all have a story, and this is ours, which began about 19 years ago:

WARNING:  Mushy gushy alert!

I never believed in love at first sight.  I thought that it was just infatuation disguised as love.  Then one day, on my first day at a new job, in walked my soul mate.  I now attribute this to soul recognition as defined by Dr. Brian Weiss.  Five seconds later came the realization that he had a baby.  And a wife.  Just my luck!  Well, I was 23 and he was only 20, though both of us are old souls.  Later I would find out that he was already in the process of getting divorced.  But that first day I felt a yearning for him that I thought would never be fulfilled.  I can't explain why I thought he would never look my way, even after finding out that he was available.  Maybe it was because at that time I was about 20 pounds overweight and lacking confidence. Maybe it was because wherever he went, Jason always drew every woman's eye--no matter their age--and how could I compete with the masses?  He has a charm that makes everyone love him.  At the time he had light brown/blondish hair and blue/green eyes (not my type, believe it or not), but he was, and is, so hot! Unfortunately, I am a bit of a jealous person, but not to where it gets out of hand.  So for a couple of months I kept my crush to myself, suffering in silence, never even imagining that he could be interested in me.
I now have his perspective to throw in.  During this time period he noticed me, as well.  I don't know if it was that first day, but it didn't take long.  He blames it on my eyes.  LOL He says that's what caught him and reeled him in.  I laugh out loud every time he tells me the story of how he thought that I would never look HIS way, and that he was plotting and planning ways to use his charm to lure me in.  I laugh because it's just so ridiculous!  I am a very shy person, and I think when it comes to the opposite sex, he can be a bit shy, too--though he is an extrovert by definition.  For some unknown reason, he is humble and truly doesn't view himself the way everyone else sees him.  So for over two months, we both danced around each other:  Me pining in silence but sending my unreadable signals to him, and Jason trying to come up with a way of asking me out without asking me out.

The details of how we finally began are all his, since I had traumatic amnesia (which we will get into later) that has left me with some lingering holes in my memory.  Apparently, I finally starting giving him some signals that he could read, and it started when I told him that I had a dream about him the night before.  When I have vivid dreams about people I know, I always ask them if they had the same dream, because without explanation I've always believed that one day they would say yes, they had!  Well, he hadn't had a dream about me the night before, but at least he knew that he was on my (subconscious) mind.  And then he says I shared my Ghiradelli cheesecake with him.  I loved my cheesecake!  I think it was me rolling his silverware for him--a much hated task--that clinched it for him.  After that, he was finally able to catch "the looks" I was giving him.  I don't know what the looks are, but apparently men can read those loud and clear.  Thank God, or we may never have gotten together!

So he says that he planned some "group" activities that he could invite me to.  At the conclusion of the second group outing, he was sure I was interested, and I do remember what happened next.  We were watching Ace Ventura, Pet Detective with the gang, and we were both hating it.  He reached over and held my hand, and as he put it, I never let his go.  I can only tell you how I felt:  It was truly my dream come true. I had never wanted something so much in my whole life as I wanted him, and thinking that he would never be mine, it shook my world when it finally became a reality.  That was the first and one of the few times that I have ever cried tears of joy (driving home that night alone, reliving the first night of US).

For about two months we both were the happiest we had ever been.  We never fought, and my only complaint was not having enough of his time.  He was 20, after all, still wrapped up with his guy friends, and of course taking care of his baby, who he loved dearly. He was such a natural with kids!  But every moment we spent together was the best of my life.  There's no other way to describe it.  I had been in love before, but this was so different.  In retrospect, I think a lot of it had to do with us being empaths--which neither of us knew or recognized at the time.  We literally FEEL each other's feelings, which makes love so much better as it builds and flows.  The highest emotional highs were even higher with him, and there was no question in either of our minds that this was what we wanted.  We loved getting together playing board games with friends, and they all hated it when we would team up because we won every time.  One evening while playing Pictionary, I was drawing (I am a terrible artist) and he was guessing, and two of the answers he got without difficulty were British Isles and Citizen Kane.  How do you draw that?  I couldn't.  Nobody could believe it.  I couldn't believe it!  We couldn't explain it (although we can now). It's what we call the "connection," the mental/psychological/emotional link we share.  Neither of us have ever had this with anyone else.

He is so unique.  I didn't know then that he treats me differently than he treats others.  Don't get me wrong; he's a nice guy and has tons of friends.  So many people love him, but he makes a conscious effort to always treat me with respect, kindness, and consideration.  Always.  He is also very anti-chauvinistic.  He's not an angry person, but it does make him angry when he sees a woman being talked down to or mistreated, no matter what the circumstances are.  He is also one of the most tolerant people I know.  He never judges people on outward appearances, race, or sexual orientation.  I love his mind (he has above-average/genius intelligence).  I love his laugh, and the way that he makes me laugh all the time.  Best of all, he thinks I'm funny!  I make him laugh until he turns red in the face and cries.  I don't usually have that effect on people.  If I could have created the perfect man from scratch, I know I would have created him.  I always tell him his only flaw is that he is too stoic at times, but I probably need that to balance out my emotional side.  And his stoicism and his great imagination have helped him through his hardships.  He tells me that my flaws are I don't like his taste in music, and I hate onions. :-P

He really is my perfect match.  I have analyzed our compatibility in a variety of ways, from our personality profiles (I am INFJ and he is ENTP, which is a match made in heaven), we share all but 1 component according to Mayan astrology, and we share the same life path and are both 30/3s.  But we have enough differences to keep things exciting and fun.

I tell you all this not to make you want to gag; though we have inspired that in so many.  We were actually banished from the house where we all would hang out because we made everyone sick with our lovey-dovey talk and PDAs.  But you need to know this to understand how we made it through what was coming, otherwise it wouldn't make sense to you.  We were in for rough water...

Truth is stranger than fiction...

And a lot of the time it is more interesting, too!  Many of my friends have told me that my life should be made into a book or a Lifetime movie.  Even Jason has encouraged me to share; his sweetest recommendation yet being to compile our years and years of letters into a bound book.  That's such a romantic idea!  I thought people wouldn't really care, but it's been pointed out to me that our culture loves reality TV, and so why not a reality blog?  I recall reading Pioneer Woman's love story on her blog years ago, and being so drawn in until her very last entry, so I think they are right.  I have great friends--of course they're right!

But before beginning this strange tale that I call my life, I have to warn you that I myself am strange.  I have always considered myself the gold standard of normal, but in recent years I have come to accept the fact that I am in fact different.  Odd.  Not normal.  While the thought of being apart from the pack makes me cringe on the inside, Jason is always quick to reassure me that if I were not different, he wouldn't love me.  Many years ago when eHarmony first hit the online dating scene, I filled out their lengthy application/personality assessment so that I could be matched up with just the right person.  However, I was informed upon completion of the process that I was so rare, they simply had nobody to match me up with.  Not one person? What was wrong with me?  These people were in BUSINESS to make MONEY, but they wouldn't take mine. This was the beginning of my realization that I was different.  Surely there was one person?  Many years later, Jason would tell me in one of his sweetest lines yet that the reason for this is because he is the only one for me, and he was not on eHarmony at that time or ever.  Oh, how I love that man.

So why am I, such a private person, finally letting the world peek in at my sometimes disastrous life?  I do think it is a story worth sharing, I would like to have a record of it, much like the main characters in The Notebook had their story to read in later years, and if nothing else it is a testament to true love for those who believe it no longer exists.  While this blog will probably veer off track from time to time, the main purpose is to tell our story, Jason and mine.  Maybe something good will come of it--maybe it will set him free--or maybe it will bring comfort to some who will read it.  We would both like that.  <3

So please read this all with an open mind and open heart and try to leave judgmental opinions at the door, or at least at bay until my story is complete.  If you do, I promise that our story will touch you and probably make you laugh.  For legal reasons, I will have to omit certain details, but what you do read will be the truth. That's another thing about me--I tend to be an open book, to a fault!  

With that caveat, let me begin...

p.s. Bear with me on the plainness of this blog until I can figure out how to jazz up its appearance.  ;)