As I walk in the grass at rec, alongside the razor wire fence, I look around at all the women inmates with their shorts and t-shirt sleeves rolled up, some even baring their stomachs, sitting and lying on the ground in the sun. I pass Roxanne, who got a whole lot of time for murdering all of her children; however, she has a whole lot of friends in here. I look at her hands and wonder how she could do a thing like that,snuffing out their little lives.
I am momentarily brought back to reality when I look out the fence and see various tractors and farm equipment being driven around by inmates, and inmates in the back of trucks going to work in the fields, and lines of hoe squad chain gangs, marching in from the fields, exhausted and covered in red dirt, with the evil squad bosses riding horseback right next to them, in jeans and boots, spurs, and ball caps or cowboy hats.
A techno-reggae song plays in my head, a new song I just heard on the radio, “Sunset in July.” I return to the memories in my mind. I’m taking my daughter Diana on her first Caribbean cruise. She’s five years old. I hold her in my arms as we look out over the railing at the vast blue sea, listening to the steel drum band. Beautiful turquoise water, as far as the eye can see. I close my eyes and can actually smell the ocean, and can feel the ocean breeze through my hair. I quickly change my thoughts before I start to cry. I miss my daughter so much it hurts.
I look up and see they’ve started a game of volleyball, ”Prison volleyball.” This definitely ain’t no beach volleyball, I joke to myself. This ain’t no picnic either!” I’m grateful that I have so many wonderful memories that I can escape to. I’m also grateful for my imagination and sense of humor. I’m sure it’s what’s helped keep my sanity in here.