Again, I must begin by apologizing for my absence.
So much has changed.
My son is officially incarcerated.
My heart is officially racing.
I was strong and positive for him when he went in for his sentencing hearing and when they led him away in cuffs. I put money on his phone account. I told him I loved him, am proud of him and he will be O.K.
He will be.
I think I will be.
One day at a time.
I have started a new blog. It is called "13 Months". I am not sure if I will make it public. But it helps for me to keep my thoughts straight.
When my son is released, I will print it out and share it with him. If he is interested.
I know from this blog, that it helps my mental and emotional health to get my thoughts out of my head and onto the screen.
Holding it in makes me feel like I will explode.
I have talked to a few women recently, who have been through the incarcerated son journey. They have been very supportive. I like hearing their stories. They have had happy endings so far.
The next month will be difficult. He is in intake at Coffee Creek. No visitors, mostly cell lockdown while they assess him and determine which facility he will be housed at.
I am praying it will be here in Portland so he can be close to us. So his baby and fiancé can visit regularly.
But mostly I am praying that wherever he ends up, he is safe and can work on building skills for when he is released. Hopefully he will be able to work. Hopefully he will be strong.
I will be doing a lot of praying.
I am still trying to maintain my own health. Intermittent fasting, exercise, prayer, etc.
But I just want to crawl in a cave and hibernate. For about 13 months.
In the meantime, I am facing another life stress: Moving. My daughter has informed me that they need my room for her daughter. She is almost 2 1/2, going on 15. She is very independent, brilliant, creative and strong willed. Like her mother. She does need her own room.
I, however, cannot afford to rent an apartment alone. I have been looking into roommate situations, but am honestly uncomfortable with that. I won't be able to afford a deposit, especially since I am helping my son. And I absolutely will be helping my son!
So I am considering Airbnb. I have found some very inexpensive room rentals. You pay ahead in an app. Like Lyft! In fact, most of my life is being lived via apps these days: My Tri-Met/CTran monthly pass app/My Starbucks app (not only do I benefit from free coffees rewards, there is a Starbucks in every neighborhood I work! It is a good place to hangout, knit, read, ponder, pray, worry...No NOT worry!)/My Lyft app - which has lately been rewarding me with rides! '
I also hold several gym memberships. So wherever I am working, I have a gym, a library, and a Starbucks to hit!
I might as well have a place to lay my head! I thought I'd rent a room for 2-3 days when I am in Portland, and 2-3 days in Vancouver. The remaining day or two, I can spend the night with family.
I plan on clearing out my storage unit. The last time I moved, I filled it to the brim with mostly books and some odds and ends that I can easily donate. I will put only necessary items in there, including clothing. My storage facility is located in Portland in between my teaching neighborhoods. I can work, stop for coffee, hit the library, the gym, and then my storage unit for supplies.
I will leave my piano with my granddaughter. I think this is doable! I am actually rather looking forward to this. I told my counselor my plan. He looked alarmed. I told him that I have a Gypsy spirit. I have always desired to be a wanderer. He squinted at me. "But you will essentially be homeless", he said with a concerned tone in his voice.
"No, I will be free!" I exclaimed.
I continued to squint. I laughed.
I will be O.K.
It helps to know you are here. On the other side of the screen. I am in my own private prison cell.
I think I will survive. I need to focus on gratitude. I am thankful I am grateful for my family, especially my grandchildren. I am grateful for my profession, especially my piano students. I am grateful for the choirs I accompany. For the churches I provide music for. My mother who I have weekly chats and breakfast with. A God who hears my prayer. And you my sweet readers!
Yes, I will be O.K.
So will my son.
Talk to you tomorrow.
Love,
Zita
P.S. I am still doing my hooping most days. I need to get back to doing it daily. Here is one of my recent videos:
So much has changed.
My son is officially incarcerated.
My heart is officially racing.
I was strong and positive for him when he went in for his sentencing hearing and when they led him away in cuffs. I put money on his phone account. I told him I loved him, am proud of him and he will be O.K.
He will be.
I think I will be.
One day at a time.
I have started a new blog. It is called "13 Months". I am not sure if I will make it public. But it helps for me to keep my thoughts straight.
When my son is released, I will print it out and share it with him. If he is interested.
I know from this blog, that it helps my mental and emotional health to get my thoughts out of my head and onto the screen.
Holding it in makes me feel like I will explode.
I have talked to a few women recently, who have been through the incarcerated son journey. They have been very supportive. I like hearing their stories. They have had happy endings so far.
The next month will be difficult. He is in intake at Coffee Creek. No visitors, mostly cell lockdown while they assess him and determine which facility he will be housed at.
I am praying it will be here in Portland so he can be close to us. So his baby and fiancé can visit regularly.
But mostly I am praying that wherever he ends up, he is safe and can work on building skills for when he is released. Hopefully he will be able to work. Hopefully he will be strong.
I will be doing a lot of praying.
I am still trying to maintain my own health. Intermittent fasting, exercise, prayer, etc.
But I just want to crawl in a cave and hibernate. For about 13 months.
In the meantime, I am facing another life stress: Moving. My daughter has informed me that they need my room for her daughter. She is almost 2 1/2, going on 15. She is very independent, brilliant, creative and strong willed. Like her mother. She does need her own room.
I, however, cannot afford to rent an apartment alone. I have been looking into roommate situations, but am honestly uncomfortable with that. I won't be able to afford a deposit, especially since I am helping my son. And I absolutely will be helping my son!
So I am considering Airbnb. I have found some very inexpensive room rentals. You pay ahead in an app. Like Lyft! In fact, most of my life is being lived via apps these days: My Tri-Met/CTran monthly pass app/My Starbucks app (not only do I benefit from free coffees rewards, there is a Starbucks in every neighborhood I work! It is a good place to hangout, knit, read, ponder, pray, worry...No NOT worry!)/My Lyft app - which has lately been rewarding me with rides! '
I also hold several gym memberships. So wherever I am working, I have a gym, a library, and a Starbucks to hit!
I might as well have a place to lay my head! I thought I'd rent a room for 2-3 days when I am in Portland, and 2-3 days in Vancouver. The remaining day or two, I can spend the night with family.
I plan on clearing out my storage unit. The last time I moved, I filled it to the brim with mostly books and some odds and ends that I can easily donate. I will put only necessary items in there, including clothing. My storage facility is located in Portland in between my teaching neighborhoods. I can work, stop for coffee, hit the library, the gym, and then my storage unit for supplies.
I will leave my piano with my granddaughter. I think this is doable! I am actually rather looking forward to this. I told my counselor my plan. He looked alarmed. I told him that I have a Gypsy spirit. I have always desired to be a wanderer. He squinted at me. "But you will essentially be homeless", he said with a concerned tone in his voice.
"No, I will be free!" I exclaimed.
I continued to squint. I laughed.
I will be O.K.
It helps to know you are here. On the other side of the screen. I am in my own private prison cell.
I think I will survive. I need to focus on gratitude. I am thankful I am grateful for my family, especially my grandchildren. I am grateful for my profession, especially my piano students. I am grateful for the choirs I accompany. For the churches I provide music for. My mother who I have weekly chats and breakfast with. A God who hears my prayer. And you my sweet readers!
Yes, I will be O.K.
So will my son.
Talk to you tomorrow.
Love,
Zita
P.S. I am still doing my hooping most days. I need to get back to doing it daily. Here is one of my recent videos:
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