#14 Jail- Thanksgiving

 It's acutally the day after Thanksgiving, but I couldn't keep my eyes open long enough last night to write. I was able to sleep last night. No panic attacks.  That was nice.

It was so good to talk to him yesterday. Our conversation was for about 15 minutes, and it was pure therapy. He called again two other times, Western Union, for 5 minutes, and that was also a huge gift.

They are treating him well. He is in a cell for 23 hours and gets out for an hour to make phone calls and shower. He got a turkey slice for lunch and saved his slice of pumpkin pie so he could eat it tonight in his cell. The day before he found a book lying around and asked the guard if he could have it. It is called "The Deep South", by Richard Grant. He had already read it once through and was about half way through the second time when he saw somone else holding a book.  He asked if he wanted to swap. Turns out the new book is more a scienc book and is pretty dry. I don't think the swap was as good as he had hoped, but I think he is happy to have anything to help his mind. This reminds me of the book by Louis L'Amore, "The Education of a Wondering Man". It's Louis's life story and focuses alot on books and writing. He was a hobo and would make his way through the country by train. The hobos would pass around books they would find and he read a lot of books by way of coming and going. Taylor kind of reminds me of Louis L'Amore in a way. The guy consumes so much literature and information. He loves to visit people and places. It's one of the things I love about him. 

He had planned out how his night and next day would go. He would hopefully be able to fall asleep to the book, be woken up for breakfast at 5am, hopefull go back to sleep after that until lunch.  It's lonely in the cell, and he's hoping he can pass the time the easiest way possible.

 He is in good spirits. He had mentioned Victor Frankl and how he was hoping to take this opportunity, that neither of us thought we would ever have, and use it for our good.  "I'm free in my mind...they can't take that away from me". I knew he would look at this situation like this. Some people are hardened by experienes like this...never Taylor. It's probably the thing that is the most comforting. 

He asked about the kids, even thought that when he got to a different unit he might be able to help homeschool them.  That sounds lovely. 

What do we do without our Taylor??

#13 The story- Chapter 1

 Chapter 1

I’m 42 now and the summer windstorms in Boise are something I still miss. I danced around our yard with the thick grass smooshed between my toes. I could sing as loud as I wanted and my voice would carry on the wind. The air was warm and there was a beautiful energy to it. The home that I spent most of my growing up years was a three story home on an acre of flat land. When we moved there I was seven and my parents would stay there until I was in my late 30’s. We spent Saturdays gardening, fixing up the lawn, building the various decks that would dress the backyard. My dad brought in sand and made a huge sand area that eventually housed a homemade tree house, with a slide that was so steep, every time you went down you wouldn’t know if you would skid out on your rear end a couple of feet or tumble forward.

 We built a metal shed, fire pit, volleyball court and eventually a beautiful shop, where my Grandpa would do his leatherworking. My dad did everything himself (I mean didn’t hire out at all), and in my eyes he could do anything. I spent hours by his side, handing him tools and holding one end of the measuring tape. There were work projects inside of our home too. The night before we would smash a wall out with our hammers we got to draw all over the wall. The next day we would wake up to some sort of encouraging music, a good breakfast and then we would get to work. 

We painted, scraped popcorn off the ceilings, replaced cabinets and about everything else you can think of. After quite a few years my dad ended up adding an addition onto our home, where his parents would finish their time on earth. This meant a lot of other projects and provided an amazing opportunity to get to know my Carlson grandparents better. 

Why doesn’t family live close together, like it used to be? I think it should be that way.

Years later, when my parents sold the home, I wondered if it hurt so bad because we had put so much into that home. We had all the sweet family memories too, the home really felt like it was part of our family.  When I walked through their home for the last time, the emotions came flooding in. Years of so many sweet memories and hard work, had all made this a beautiful home. I was surprised that the selling their home was as hard as it was. 

My neighborhood had wide streets and familiar faces. Around fourteen years old I loved to walk circles around my neighborhood with my sweet friend in the late night. Jen lived just around the block, and her and I would walk for hours and talk about all the mysteries of life :), because of course we knew all the mysteries of life. I don’t think I could ever count how many late night walks we went on, and definitely not how many hours we spent on those walks. After we circled our neighborhood multiple times we would end up standing by her car and just talking for so long. My mom would flicker the front porch light, to signal me to come in and her to go home. It was just so hard to end our conversations. Anne of Green Gables has the best description, she was a bosom friend and I’m so grateful we found each other. After we graduated and went to college and off on our different ways, every once and a while,  we would end up in Boise on the same weekend. If that happened we would never let the weekend pass without at least one reminiscent late night walk to catch up on all the things.  Even after so many years had passed, my mom would still flicker on and off the lights when our walks would run us late into the night. All three of us thought that was awesome and got a laugh out of it. It was in Jen’s car I learned how to drive a stick shift.  Circling the neighborhood and countless church parking lots. Jen would be a dear friend forever, a sort of an anchor for me.

That's all for tonight. I'm tired. My mind is still and my heart is...I don't even know. Goodnight

#12 Jail

 Taylor called again and again. My cell phone wouldn't let the call ring through. It finally came through and I had to put money on the call- I could hear his voice, saying it was Taylor calling. Putting money on his account made the call drop again. By this time Bensen and Fisher were out on the deck with me, trying to get good reception- my reception is so crappy in my home. He finally called back.  Too many dropped calls. He had one minute left when I was able to finally get through. One minute is not enough. Fisher told him he loved him and sobbed. 

He is cold and in a cell by himself- a COVID cell. Just give him a damn test. Confining him to a cell alone- it makes me sick. The call was so rushed. It was expensive. It was Western Union. How is their system so archaic, it's like no one really cares. I mourn for the broken, for the enslaved, for the captives. Not just where Taylor is, but everywhere. Humanity. This is a side that I have never had a glimpse of. 

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving- no calls on Thanksgiving-OH, MY TAYOR! Please, God help him.

#11 Invictus-I needed this

Invictus 

BY WILLIAM ERNEST HENLEY

Out of the night that covers me,

      Black as the pit from pole to pole,

I thank whatever gods may be

      For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance

      I have not winced nor cried aloud.

Under the bludgeonings of chance

      My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears

      Looms but the Horror of the shade,

And yet the menace of the years

      Finds and shall find me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,

      How charged with punishments the scroll,

I am the master of my fate,

      I am the captain of my soul.

#10 The Story- Intro

 I think writing helps me so much. I've taught a writing class for the last three years to quit a few homeschool high school students. I never really had the patience for writing. I love to converse. But, this is so helpful right now. 

I started an audobiography not too long ago. Maybe its so I don't forget. Maybe its so the richness of a life so,so blessed can be remembered. So I can always be grateful.

Damn these words. They just aren't sufficient. Words rarely are. Anyway, I think I'll try. 

# ? who even knows-I am broken

 How do you heal a broken heart? Nights are the most haunting. I keep waking up from this nightmare to find the nightmare paralyzing my soul worse awake than when I am asleep. 

OH TAYLOR, I love you so much. It breaks my heart to think of you alone in a cell.  I scream out to God to help you. My heart is so broken. How does a person breathe when you the one who means everything to you? I know my world will go on- and I do love life, but I almost don't want the pain to go away because its the feeling right now that is real. I do want it to go away, the anxiety is killing me, but I love you so much, I can't let go. 

My sobs woke Elise up tonight. She held me and I couldn't help but think that I should be holding her.  What of the pit in your stomach that never seems to be consoled? We prayed together tonight. A mother comforted by her daughter. It really is a beautiful thing. Why are my children so good? I ache for them. 

Thank God for some relief. 

It's so hard.

#8 No sleep for the weary and no good byes

 Here I am again. The luxury of writing to share my thoughts has been one that I have not enjoyed for quit some time. It seems that it is more of a therapy than something to entertain myself or others. And so tonight I call on that therapy again.  I put it out here in hopes that it can help heal my heart and possibly be of use to someone out there. Maybe something good can come from the ramblings of a broken hearted mother and wife.  At the least it may help me release enough to go to sleep.  

Taylor was found guilty today (well it would be yesterday technically) of all the charges filed against him. Honestly, I can’t even remember how many there are. January 6th was a hard day for all involved, even for those watching on the TV. The prosecution had requested he be remanded into custody and the judge gave the order. I think all of that is the proper way of saying it….There were no good byes or buttoning things up. All we had was an abrupt silence, an entire country’s distance away. The most important person to me and more importantly the most important person to my children is gone.

It’s just so sad  

We have had our fair share of difficulties and I’ve been grateful to be on the flip side of those. It’s a relief to look back and see how the things that have been the most difficult have molded us into something we could have never been. It’s fulfilling to see the struggles that have been overcome. But, in the midst of possibly our greatest struggle it’s hard to imagine any resput. Never would I have ever imagined that this experience would be one that I would have to enjoy. I’ve thought a couple times in the past two years, that this is easier than losing our sweet little Destin, but I’m not sure that that is true. It’s probably because it’s 2 in the morning and I have no perspective, but this seems so difficult. Today I watched my 11 year old curl into a ball and sob. I had no answers for him. How long would dad be gone or when would he see him again. I had nothing. My oldest two have been trying to keep it together, but I fear the reservation I’m seeing will come back to haunt us. The two littlest are their happy little selves. How it breakers my heart to think of them without their dad, for who knows how long. 

 It’s Thanksgiving soon.  This world isn’t a stranger to suffering. This is nothing compared to the experiences of so many who have lived before. Israel and the Gaza Strip are in shambles and there are children and people suffering so much more there than I am. My heart aches for the imbalance in the world and in our hearts.

There is so much good out there, and I would be remiss to not thank God for the blessings we have received these past few years, but this is hard.