This time last year, Lee was in a county jail.
We had lost the appeal (the case which we had 1st won).
We knew it was coming. We just didn’t know when.
Pastor walked into the store one afternoon. I didn’t have any customers.
Interesting how the Lord works that out.
He said, “I wanted you to know that I was at the jail visiting someone else in Lee’s unit.
When I was there, the state came with a van to take Lee to prison. He was able to step in and tell me before he left.”
I started to cry. Not out loud. Just big hot tears rolling down my face.
“Are you ok?” he asked.
I nodded my head and tried to smile. “It’s just such an ugly word.” I whispered.
We talked about how prison really was better than jail.
In jail, we had to visit through the glass. I’d sit and watch him cry on the other side of the glass and I couldn’t do anything to comfort him other than touch my hands to the glass. It was pathetic.
In jail, he couldn’t work. He couldn’t go outside. He couldn’t take classes or go to the gym.
He just sat and sat and sat.
At least in prison, he could go outside and get some sun. He could work to pass the time. He could see about taking some classes.
I could touch him.
Really, I knew it would be better. I just hated hearing that word and thinking that he was there.
A year of prison has passed us by. We have less than a year to live through. It’s still such an ugly word.