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Bad Day – Mother’s Day

What it's really like for prison wives on Mother's Day, and any bad day. The powerless life of a prison wife when it hurts.

Greetings, gentlemen and women all around the world. As Mothers’ Day approaches and the thought of my precious mother along with the thought of my lovely with and beautiful mothers of my children, I could not help but to dedicate a heartfelt essay from an Expository writing I’ve had with me for many years, yet never disposed of it because of its very dear and extremely profound meaning.


Additionally, after witnessing via the phone and visitation many of my co-recluses disrespect and demean their women, I beg of you to take this exposition into dear account and give your women the true value and respect they truly deserve.

And, for those of you who have refused to do the aforementioned, keep up the good work because you will be rewarded in due time, if not already, deal?

Today is a bad day.

I wish I could say that I’ve never had one before, but bad days consume my life.

I have no escape from them.


Today is a day I wonder.

Where is the support for us sisters in the struggle? What a man asks a woman to wait for him while he’s in prison, does he realize what an incredible emotional sacrifice that is? Does he realize that, yes, we’re in the struggle too?


When I made this choice to do this bid with my man, I didn’t know that it would mean to consciously hand over the control and happiness of my life, not to my man, but to an institution. From the very beginning, my man told me I had the Power in the relationship? That I should take the lead because I was the one who was free.


How am I free?

What power do I have?

I buy my clothes according to what is acceptable for visits. At any time I can go where my heart desires, but my heart’s desire is trapped within that prison compound.

So where am I going?

I stalk the mailman and won’t leave the house until he comes; waiting for a white envelope with familiar handwriting that has taken the place of hugs and kisses. I check the phone several times a day to make sure it’s working, waiting to hear it ring and see unavailable appear on the caller ID, a sight that has taken the place of the sound of my doorbell or his car horn. I set my watch to the clocks in prison. I schedule my bedtime around COUNT.

No, I don’t have any power.

The phone company has the power. The mailman has the power. Corrlinks has the power. Father Time has the power. The prison and the guards, they have all the power. Today I feel helpless and out of control. Today is surely a bad day and yes, I am struggling too…


Today, like most bad days that pass, I see a little bit of my life that has slipped away; another memory not made, another dream that hasn’t come true.

One more day my family is separated.

One more day I am without a real home. I am so often standing in the line between sanity and insanity.

I have to keep telling myself, “he’s real, this is real, our love is real, and the end will come.”

Today when he called I had to fight the urge to beg him to come home.

“Please come home, if you really loved me, you would find a way.”

Today I blame him for keeping us apart.

Today I am so very angry with him.

Today is definitely a bad day and yes, I am struggling too…

A good day can turn bad in the blink of an eye, a tick of the clock, or a beat of my heart. I am on an emotional roller coaster that changes its course without warning or consideration for my mental state.

It never asks my permission… attacks of depression, despair, confusion and frustrations hit me and consume me from the bottom of my feet to the top of my head and every crevice of my body in between. Some days I just want to curl up in bed and sleep. Sleep the years away. Some bad days I can’t even sleep or even eat.


Sometimes I even have to make my heart beat and lungs take in oxygen. Suicide is never a thought, but dying of loneliness is always, a possibility. Today I have no answers that make sense for the thousands of questions running through my head. My mind is cluttered with doubts and confusion and this makes my heart heavy with guilt and shame.

How can I question the only real joy in my life? There are so many people who are lonely, without love and passion in their lives, so as difficult as this ordeal is; I know that what he and I share is the most precious of all gifts.


But today I can’t remember all the unconditional love, support, and non-judgment that my man has bestowed upon me. Today I can’t remember all that. My man is the only one who truly understands and accepts me, the good and the bad…

Today, I can’t remember all the passion that my man has brought out of me. Today I can’t remember that the sound of his voice can bring me to orgasm. Today I can’t remember that he plays no games, tells no lies, and wears our love like a badge of honor.

Today is obviously a bad day and yes, I am struggling too… while I wouldn’t change one second, erase one tear, or forget one heartache, I can truly understand why any woman would choose not to wait. The reality is that I am in prison too… I am also doing this time and the only thing I am guilty of is loving my man.

For ever one of us that stands by our men, that can endure the bad days and savor the good, there are many that can’t.

Many just don’t even try. To the men whose women choose to move on, I feel your pain but, you must always remember that there are always two sides to every story.

Your women might not always tell what’s in their hearts, but if you listen hard enough you can hear them. You can hear their confusion and fear pleading with you to understand, to forgive, to accept and to remember…

Not every woman is strong enough to endure the bad days the struggle brings!


To all of you men who know, have, or has had a woman in your life, please communicate with them and wish them a Happy and Blessed Mothers’ Day for eternity and beyond, deal?


Thank you dearly and many, many blessings.

Ernesto Cole

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