For the Lives of Prison Wives

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How to Get Through the Holidays With a Loved One in Prison

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The most wonderful time of the year isn’t so wonderful for everybody.  The holidays are reminders to many of the people they love and miss the most.  Holidays just aren’t the same when you can’t have certain Loved Ones home with you to share the winter weather, holiday movies, good hot chocolate, and just the whole holiday ambiance.

I remember my first year without my husband being home for the holidays.   I cried the throughout the holidays.  I tried to be happy for my kids but all I could think about was him not being there to see them open their gifts.  Not only did I cry throughout the day, I had to get myself together enough for company.  Oh, did I mention  company were relatives and friends that had their Boothang and everythang! Insert rolling eye emoji here with a sigh… Now, don’t get me wrong, I love my folks.  But at that time it was like I’m already hurting. Now life just has to be rubbed and rubbed in my face.

I tried to do the best I could to cover up the emotional roller coaster I was on.  But the way my facials set up, it was always an epic fail especially with my momma… well my daddy… well my sister and brother-in-law… Well…hell, back to what I said. EPIC FAIL!! The first few years I think good ol’ Stevie Wonder would’ve been able to read my facial expressions.

But you know what would change all of that? Those holiday phone calls!!

When I would get my phone calls I had a sense of holiday normalcy.  And on top of that, we got extra minutes during the holiday!!  Do you not know what extra minutes means to a Prison Wife or Prison Family?!?! We got to spend some part of the holiday together!! We shared what we were in the kitchen cooking up, how the kids reacted to their Christmas, the big fed meal my Mister got to eat. He would be so excited about that meal.  I would get jealous when he would end the convo to go eat. Like really bruh?  

If he didn’t end the convo to go eat, of course we were reminded that we were still on prison time when that big mouth count down lady would tell us “you have 5 mins remaining”… Girrrll we know…can you be merry on Christmas?!?  Her voice would send me right down the roller coaster back into sadness before we even hung up the phone.  We both were the same for the first few years during holidays until there was a shift.

I honestly don’t know when the shift took place but I do remember my Mister calling and hearing me down.  He let me know he was ok and he wanted me to be happy and enjoy the family.  Plus it wasn’t fair for my family to look up and see me down just to bring them down.

I really didn’t intend on telling all of this.  I was just going to share a few tips but I hope our story can help you during this time.

Here are a few getting through the holiday tips:

  1. Do a Mindset shift!! Have a grateful mindset. As clichéish as it sounds it could definitely be worse especially in these times we’re living in.  Think of the things that you are grateful for about your Loved One
  2. If you have to do a little something everyday to be happy, Do It!  (treat yourself i.e. movie, me time, girl night, etc.)
  3. Give yourself permission to enjoy the holidays.
  4. Do not carry the guilt of your Loved One not being there for the holidays.
  5. Fix his fave dish to add to Christmas dinner
  6. If you go around family/friends, be happy! Remember, it’s not fair to them to be gloom and doom ALL day.
  7. If you talk to your Loved One, uplift each other. Have fun. He/She wants to hear you happy.
  8. Something I wish I would’ve done…Do a 12 Days of Christmas letters
  9. A Loyal Lady from our support group suggested lighting a candle
  10. Do a Christmas Photoshoot
  11. Buy an early Christmas  gift. (No matter when your LO comes home it’ll be fun to watch he/she open it.)
  12. Have your Loved One call while you’re opening gifts (especially if you have children)
  13. Play your fave Christmas songs in the background.
  14. Don’t be too pissed at the countdown lady. She’s just doing her job.
  15. Remember Live, Laugh, Love!!

What are you planning to do to get through the holidays?

Happy Holidays!!!

~Stay Strong. Beautiful. Unbothered.

I Can’t Breathe & I’m In Prison

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Picture of Willie "Fareed" Fleming

Willie "Fareed" Fleming

In America, we’re hearing the phrase “I can’t breathe” way too often these days.  We normally hear it as life is taken from unarmed African American males at the hands of racists officers.  There’s another place “I can’t breathe” is being heard.  That’s in our prisons.  I can’t breathe is being yelled by those dying to officers as well as those dying to the cornavirus.  Check out this unbelievable, heartwrenching story of an incarcerated Loved One, Wille “Fareed” Fleming as he battled coronavirus behind the prison wall…

“Yea though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; for Thou art
with me. Thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.” – Psalm 23:4 

When I was a little boy in Sunday school memorizing that verse back in the 60ty’s, I envisioned
a slim pathway between two mountains, boulders or something that was way out in the middle of
nowhere; and in a place where a lion or bear- or even a human enemy would be tracking me and
trying to take me out. I never would have thought that the predator would be the coronavirus.
Forty days ago, the coronavirus arrived at the Wynne Prison Unit in Huntsville, TX. We knew it
was here because men started falling out and everyone was manifesting the symptoms that were
being warned about on television such as dry coughing, fever, an inability to breathe and extreme
fatigue.

The first order was to socially distance. Well, how do you do that in prison? Especially on a unit
where the cells are 8X10 feet and shared with a cellmate and the showers are communal.
Nonetheless, the practice of “socially distancing” started on April 3rd. I know because I was
scheduled to go give a sermon that day in the chapel and we all had to readjust to meet the social
distance guidelines. The Chaplain and I were in his office talking and going over the sermon
notes when he started coughing and feeling fatigued. Three weeks later, he died from the
coronavirus.

I knew I had contracted it from him and by this time I was beginning to have few symptoms, as
was the whole wing where I was housed. My cellmate, who was twenty years younger than me,
had foot bruises and a dry cough which he thought were as a result of the virus. Every one up
and down the row of 28 cells felt that they had some type of symptom and then people started
passing out, falling down and yelling that they couldn’t breathe.

We would go to bed listening to see who was coughing the worst. We would ask, “Has Mike
made it back from Memorial Hermann?”(The hospital that most were rushed to.) Then we began
to notice the list of names just kept getting longer, and longer and longer. “Does anybody know
what happened to Bell, Rock, Phil, Jay, Howard, Milton, Flacco,the Irishman, Chi-town, G-Man,
Lil Man, Tiny, Bryan College Station, East Texas, Fifth Ward, Johnny Cochran? Man, there are
too many of us missing and the chaplain is dead!” The news said that there were 12 of “us” who
were dead. The rumors spread as quickly as the virus and the next then that happened was the
new name for the cell block- “The Death Block.”

I refused to entertain any negativity.

I woke up in the morning praying and reading the Word and fasting to stay spiritually strong; but
my dry cough wouldn’t stop. My chest was hurting slightly and I couldn’t smell anything. I was
always waiting for things to get just a little worse before I sounded the alarm.
Then, on April 28th, the officials started doing targeted testing for guys that were in the
vulnerable population. I was one of the ones tested.

I finally broke and told my wife, although I never told her about the symptoms because I
couldn’t have her worrying; but when I took the test I knew it would come back positive and it
did. They moved all of the offenders positive with the coronavirus to a block all by ourselves.
None of us were looking the other men in the eye. It was as if we were all being marshalled
together to die.

No sooner than we got settled in, the calls for help began. “I can’t breathe.”
Another man was having a heart attack and despair and depression had consumed the whole cell
block.

Mail quit coming, the officers working our block were donned in space suits and looked at us as
if we were already dead. The only food we received were sandwiches that were cold,
non-nutritious and never delicious. Then the water got turned off for five days due to a broken
pipe. It was as low as it gets. One day, I was in my cell writing my son a letter reminding him of
everything I ever taught him and the Holy Spirit quickened me to get up and start shadow
boxing.

I started swinging at the unseen enemy.

I fought him for about 30 minutes and then started doing a regimen of push-ups and other
exercises until I was dripping with sweat and I heard the verse, “ Yea though I walk through the
valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil.” I heard that verse as I had never heard it
before. DAvid said, “AS I WALK THROUGH THE VALLEY OF THE SHADOW OF
DEATH,” not as I am overcome in the valley. Not respective of how death’s tail struck me on
the left cheek, but how I WALKED THROUGH, fearing now evil and taking comfort with his
rod (The Word) and his staff (The Holy Spirit).

I have made it through the valley, but death was on my every side. Many have passed away and
their faces are still fresh in my mind, but God saved me, covered me, guided me through and I
am grateful and thankful. I don’t know if all of the guys that were taken away are dead or just
being housed somewhere else, but I know they deserve to be checked on, remembered and
forgiven for many were redeemed and have regenerated their lives. They are great examples of
new creatures reconciled back to God.

Signed,
Willie “Fareed” Fleming

Hello from the Other Side: A Daughter’s Memoir

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When I was 3 years old and my brother hadn’t been born our dad was arrested. I can remember vividly my dad not returning home and asking my mom when he was coming back. I later learned that he was in jail. He was sentenced to 21 years in prison. This was the most horrifying thing I experienced as a 3 year old.
I very faintly remember moving to my grandparent’s house. Packing up all of my toys into boxes. Stuff was everywhere you stepped. Pots and pans all over the kitchen, clothes across the couches, covers over the TV, everything was a mess. We had many good times but I remember one night when I received a letter from my daddy and my mom and I were sitting on the top bunk of the bed. It was the summer of Kindergarten when I was 6 and my mom helped me read the letter he wrote in cursive. I can’t exactly remember what the letter said but my mom and I were sitting there crying.
“I know you miss him. I do too,” my mom mumbled.
“When is he coming home mommy?” I cried.
Eventually we moved into our very own house. It was so beautiful and I was so happy to finally have a place to call my home. I had my very own room and no longer had to share with my brother. My room was yellow, I had a full bed, flower drapes, and stuffed animals everywhere. My room was the cutest room in the whole house.
After while my brother started to notice that his friends dads were around but his wasn’t so, he asked my mom where he was out of the blue. My brother finally was old enough to understand at about 5 years old. My mom explained to him the best she could and he was a smart child so he understood.
We went to visit my dad every Summer. He moved to many different places all the way from high to low security prisons. I hated visiting him when he was in high security prisons because I couldn’t hug him or sit in his lap. That’s very important to a daughter because I’d always been a daddy’s girl. He would take me anywhere I wanted from mall to mall getting me any and every thing I could ever want as a little 3 year old child and I really missed that.
Then he got moved down to medium security prison. It was better and worst visiting my dad. It was better because we could hug, talk without using a phone, and even take pictures. The worst thing was it was so hard to dress nice because you would have to take anything that had metal in it off and it was a real pain in the butt.
This one time my mom had to go all the way back to the hotel to change because she had sandals on but I could wear sandals. It made all of us so mad.
“These rules are so stupid!” exclaimed my mom.  “ What’s so bad about sandals mommy?” I asked curiously.
“I really don’t know” responded my mom angrily.
We went back and they took us back to the visitation room where we waited anxiously for my dad to come out. When he came out everybody was so excited. My brother and I ran and jumped in my dad’s arms as he lifted us off the ground.
“Daddy!” shouted my brother and I.
“Hey Lil’ Buddy!” my dad excitedly said to my brother.
“Hey My Princess!” my dad said as he kissed my cheek.
We walked over to the seats where the rest of the family was he hugged my Grandmother and Grandaddy, and kissed my mom. The adults sat and talked while my brother and I were playing board games. They said they needed some adult time. I still was being nosey and overheard my dad talking about how tired of prison he was. He’d been there for 10 years and everybody felt his pain. But I was just patiently waiting for my favorite part of the visit. My 1 on 1 time with my dad.
Every time I would go and visit my dad we would have 1 on 1 daddy and daughter time. I always loved that time because we can just talk and keep things between us. This is what kept our relationship so strong.
“So, how’s daddy’s princess been?” he said as I sat in his lap.
“Good,” I responded.
“Have you been missing me?” asked my dad.
“Yes, daddy how would I not?” I replied.
“I just wanted to hear that,” my dad said as he chuckled.
We would continue to talk until it was my brother’s turn to get his time. I would always get jealous because I wanted all the time to myself. I’m really selfish when it comes to time with him.
Sometimes I didn’t like going to school because I’d always have to lie about my situation. I don’t want everybody to know because I feel like if I tell certain people I would be looked upon as a whole different person. Just because my dad made a mistake and is in prison doesn’t mean that, that makes me a different person. I still am who I am and nothing’s going to change that. Only a few of my best friends know. I knew they wouldn’t judge me because of this one thing and I love all those friends for that.
One day when I was in 5th grade I remember having my purple sweater dress on with white polka dots, in mid September, skipping from recess when my teacher stopped me. She asked if my parents were divorced because she’s never seen my dad at any PTA meetings or performances. To me this was really none of her business but I told a lie like I always did. I never answered so she just assumed my parents were divorced.
“How often do you visit your dad? My children go see their dad during the summer,” my teacher said.
“I see my dad in the summer too,” I replied.
“Where does your dad live? He must live far if he never goes to your performances,” she said.
“He lives in Virginia,” I said as I rolled my eyes.
“Do you know what he does for work?” she asked.
I didn’t know what to say so I started to think of manly jobs really quickly. I flashed back to when my friend told me her dad was a coal miner.
“He’s a coal miner,” I said as I walked inside from recess.
I didn’t want her to ask me questions about my dad unremittingly so I walked back to the classroom. Ever since then a teacher never has asked me about my personal life like that.
Now my dad has moved to a low security prison and I haven’t seen him in two years. It’s been hard but he calls my phone a lot and we can email whenever we want. He may be able to get out early but we will never know until that time. I want him here but at the same time I’m nervous. It would be so different having him around after all these years without him here with us. Things would probably change for everybody in the house. I really hope there will be good changes and no bad changes. This is going to be hard but this situation has made my family strong and we can get through anything together.

Daddy’s Princess

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