When Mr. Thompson and I were married, I made it crystal clear (or so I thought) I did not want kids. He agreed.

Each year, he “checks” to make sure I’m still sticking to my story and it usually happens after a visit. I’m not in to kids. They may be fine for others but I don’t see the point of them. Cuteness wears off. I’m squeamish and kids have a huge ick factor. I know, I know, everyone says it will be different with your kid, even if this is true, still not interested.

In addition to not feeling the idea of a poo and goo machine, I’m selfish. After twelve years of being without him, I don’t want to share him with anyone, not to mention we will be in our mid-forties. I’m content to be Nivens and Reesy forever [period] Problem is, Mr. Thompson is lobbying hard for a third party.

“You will be a great mom.”

“How can you not want a child with my charm and your looks?”

“We have to have a little WillReese.”

I listen to his affirmative argument, patiently waiting my turn to offer the opposing view and emerge victorious. Though I’ve heard his argument many times, the plea is different. I hear love layered with fear. He is concerned about his legacy and being in prison has amplified this. Instead of giving a quick no, I say to Mr. Thompson, “If I can have at least two nannies, and possibly a surrogate, ...maybe.”

He agrees.

Crap.

Have you or your partner changed his mind about a decision you’ve made?

On my recent visit, as soon as my husband comes in to the visitation room, first thing I notice is his new tattoo, on his left inside forearm (only free space on his arms). After the kissy-face greeting, pointing to his new artwork, I ask, “What is that?”  No response, as he is caught up in greeting my mom and sister.

After we sit down, I ask again, “What is that?” He asks, “Aren’t you going to ask me what it means?” In that moment I really didn't care what it meant, but I played along and inquired. His tattoo read, Nemo Me Impune Lacessit. Below it was a circle with his grandfather’s Native American totem, eagle and another circle with my husband’s Native American totem, bear (which the person didn’t finish because they didn’t know how to shade it, something you think my husband would have found out before allowing himself to be inked).

Now in all fairness, it was a cute tattoo, but that wasn’t to be addressed until I found out what the hell it was doing on his arm and why I didn’t know about it. Nivens says there is no direct translation of the phrase but to him it means, “Judge me not by my actions, but my journey.”

Naturally, he was upset I didn’t comment of the look of the tattoo before harping on it. I didn’t see a tattoo. I saw an infection injection. I immediately thought of a dirty ink pen attached to an even dirtier safety pin, dipped in God only knows what kind of dye, infecting him with Hepatitis A, B, C, D, and E.  Not to mention the fact that tattooing is not an approved form of art in his prison. He assures me the tattoo was done with a brand new tattoo gun. My reply, "ummm, hmmm"

By the end of the visit, I had accepted the tattoo as one more thing we've picked up on this journey. Until I Googled, Nemo Me Impune Lacessit and while he is partly correct there is no direct translation, more often than not, it is translated as: No one attacks me with impunity (without punishment).

Nivens Thompson, you got some serious explaining to do!!!

*P. S. - All tattoos will be removed, when he comes home. Enjoy them now babe! Shhh, our little secret. ;)

Has your partner received a prison tattoo?

What do you get when you want to play spades but only have a pack of Uno cards? SPUNO!

Here's the conversion:

Suits:

Yellow  – Clubs

Red  – Hearts

Blue – Diamonds

Green – Spades

Wild Card – Big Joker

Draw 4 – Little Joker

Ranks:

1 – Ace

Skip – King

Draw 2 – Queen

Reverse – Jack

0 - 10

Number cards are the same.

Once you get the hang of it, Spuno is a lot of fun and it works. My husband and I were set a couple of times playing against my mom and sister. Thanks to my sister, Tawni White, for coming up with it. It was the one of the best times I have had on a visit.

Happy Spuno! Try it at your next visit.

What games do you play with your partner during visitation?

**This post assumes you know how to play Spades**

Road trip from Virginia to Pennsylvania to visit husband:

Gas: $125 round trip

Toll: $3.30

Room: $70

Food for trip and visitation room: $50

Spending six hours with the love of my life….PRICELESS….but DAMN!

Total cost for one-day trip: $248.30

How much do you spend on a one day visit?

Six days until I hit the road. I mark big red ‘X’s’ on my wall calendar and I have numbered post it notes right by the door front.  I peel off one number each day as I leave the house, AND every day I sing a visitation countdown song, but… I’m not counting at all.

In the interest of balance, thought I would share some of the things I really enjoy about visitation.

• Figuring out what to wear. This is a one day visit, which means I will probably take at least 5 different combinations. The winning combination usually depends on what I feel the most comfortable in that day….or what the guards tell me I can’t wear in.
• Crossing the PA state line. I am convinced I can smell my husband as soon as I cross in to Pennsylvania. This is one of my favorite parts.
• Arriving at the hotel. The hotel is less than a mile away from the prison. I love the idea of being so close and finally being able to sleep 'together'.
• Seeing him for the first time. Reminiscent of my favorite moment at a wedding--where the groom sees the bride for the first time. Seeing him with a small sly smile that turns into a goofy grin is the moment that makes all the unpleasant moments worth it.
• Sharing a meal together. It’s the little things.
• Being quiet together. Even if he were home, I wouldn’t have six straight hours of conversation. It’s being comfortable enough to know that even in the quiet times, we are saying a lot.
• Leaving. I know this one sounds strange but we never say good-bye. Leaving is a promise of seeing him the next time and it’s a reminder that we still have work to do. We flash our family symbol and head back to our two different worlds, legally separated by the DOC, but never apart.

Family Symbol: It means I love this this much that nothing can come between us.

What do you enjoy?

The countdown begins. In 11 days, I make the eight to ten hour trek to see Mr. GE-6309. Traveling can be fun until I hit the axis of evil known as The Pennsylvania Turnpike.

Visitation is a time to get away from the lie of my daily life; the lie of being single.  Once I am "buzzed" in and I see my husband, throwing my arms around him is like the proverbial "Honey, I'm home." If home is where the heart is, I've just entered my gated community. We are on lockdown for six glorious hours.

Though it's a happy time, visitation is also a time of many annoyances, none to be taken too seriously, but annoyances all the same. Here are a few of my pet peeves and thoughts:

• Visitors who ask about my husband’s crime, 1) It’s not your business and 2) I have yet to have a conversation where this is relevant. We ain’t that cool.
• Parents who allow their kids to roam free during visitation. Don’t mistake my kindness for caring about your kids.
• People who stand at the vending machine forever. Dude, it’s the same stuff that was in there a minute ago.
• Guards power tripping. No amount of yelling will make you a better man than my husband.
• People who try to out power the power tripper, resulting in a terminated visit. You have to pick your battles.
• Guys who come up to my husband to chat about prison life. Husband doesn't play interrupted visits. He will say, "Dog, didn't I just see you on the block?" I'm with my wife. We ain't going nowhere, talk to me later. This is around the time where I will start to imagine that prison jumpsuit on the floor. ;)
  
• People who stand so close to you at the picture machine it's almost rude not to invite them in the shot. Taking pictures is code for copping a feel. It's the only time between salutation and sincerely where we are allowed full-body touching. Back up off my private time. Stop 'cop' blocking! :)
  

What are your pet peeves?

In case you missed today's show, listen and let me know what you think.

My husband taught me the true definition of love. He gave me a joy that transcends all understanding. He is everything I didn’t know I needed, in a package I never wanted, yet even with his prison sentence, I am joyful in a love that can’t be broken. We have always loved each other in a way that doesn’t leave room for anyone or anything else.

He is in prison for committing a crime against the state, but I am the one who from time to time commits crimes against his heart and there is no punishment for me, because he loves me…still.

He says I am more than he deserves. Well, he is more than I expected to have. This is my ode to him. I could have written this song word for word, it speaks to everything that is flawed in me. It’s like standing naked, as vulnerable as you can get, and giving all you have to give.

I still don’t know why he loves me, but that’s why I love him. We have accepted each other….flaws and all.

What flaws do you have that makesyou wonder why he loves you?



Flaws And All lyrics

I'm a train wreck in the morning
I'm a bitch in the afternoon
Every now and then without warning
I can be really mean towards you

I'm a puzzle yes indeed
Ever complex in every way
And all the pieces aren't even in the box
And yet you see the picture clear as day

I don't know why you love me
And that's why I love you
You catch me when I fall
Accept me, flaws and all
And that's why I love you
And that's why I love you
And that's why I love

I neglect you when I'm working
When I need attention I tend to nag
I'm a host of imperfection
And you see past all that

I'm a peasant by some standards
But in your eyes I'm a queen
You see potential in all my flaws
And that's exactly what I mean

I don't know why you love me
And that's why I love you
You catch me when I fall
Accept me, flaws and all
And that's why I love you
And that's why I love you
And that's why I love you

Don't know why you love me
And that's why I love you
Catch me when I fall
Accept me flaws and all
And that's why I love you
And that's why I love you
And that's why I love you
You, you, you

Did you know 3 out of 5 men paroled returned to prison within twelve to twenty-four months?

~Bureau of Justice & Statistics

How many bids are you willing to do?

Have you discussed ways to keep your partner out of the 3?

I wrote this poem for my husband in 2004, a couple months after his incarceration, before the marriage, before the conviction, before I became a prisoner’s wife. Though he loves all my work, this is by far his favorite.

The title became the mantra for our lives. We do everything more than just, even love. As many of you know, love is never enough to sustain a relationship. Sometimes it’s the foundation, other times the icing, but to make a relationship truly work, it takes more than just love.

MORE THAN JUST

I met a man

More than just a man

A partner

Who without him it would be hard to breathe

More than just a partner

A soulmate

Not the kind made in fairytales

That we only have one of

But the kind that is cultivated, nurtured, created

More than just a soulmate

A friend

Who listens, who knows, who cares, who shares

More than just a fried

A foe

A worthy opponent, a hot head, and attitude and ego

A gentleness, a kindness, innocence

More than just a foe

A rock

Gilbraltor, vulnerable, a soft place to lie an even softer place to fall

And somewhere starting to learn monsters don’t live in the dark after all

More than just a rock

A soldier

An anger so blue, even demons need love too

More than just a soldier

A teacher

Knowledgeable, yet still a sponge

A lover

A caregiver, a provider, noble, honest, faithful

I met a man

Confident and secure in who he is

Comfortable enough to know that sometimes the power is not always his

More than just a partner, soulmate, friend, foe, rock, soldier, teacher, and lover

I met a man

More than just a man

Everything to me

Notes for better understanding: When my husband gets angry, he refers to it as being blue. There are different shades to his anger from baby blue to midnight. When we met, he did not sleep through the night. He said he had demons, that monsters were in the dark, but after a couple weeks with me, he was able to find his peace (of course, once incarcerated the demons were back).