Category: Holidays

Happy Father’s Day

On By ChristopherIn Guest Writings, Holidays, Women Behind BarsLeave a comment

Happy Father’s Day
By Felicia

To the average person today is a day to celebrate the man that helped give you life. Raised you to be the man or woman you’ve become. To thank them for everything they’ve done and continue to do.

While others spend today remembering the man that has become their personal guardian angel. That raised them, taught them everything that they know. Supported the family. Disciplined you when it was necessary, but has since passed away. Leaving behind memories of happiness mixed with a feeling of yearning to have just one more conversation go unanswered…

ion, one mo

re hug, just another moment.

To me Father’s Day is just another reminder of what was, will never be. My father is still alive, walking, living and breathing. Where is he? Your guess is as good as mine. Th

e last time we spoke was July 2018 shortly after I was arrested.

Does it bother me? Not in the slightest. Yes, I’m happy on Father’s Day, but not for the standard meaning. I’m not celebrating who he is nor what he has done for me or to me. I’m h

appy that I don’t have to be tortured with his presence. The uncomfortable tension that lingers on the air when we are in the same room. The unspoken events that have taken place.

He ha

s the ne

rve to claim he is embarrassed and ashamed of me. Why? Oh, for coming to prison. I’m his only biological daughter. Who does a normal girl call upon in a time of need or danger? Her father…

But my call

See I’m far from normal. The life I have lived, the things I have endured under my father’s supervision, makes him the last person I would call upon.

Three reasons.

He allowed m

e to be robbed of my innocence in his home while he was shit faced drunk, pa

ssed out in the same room. Being raped while your father is present, looking over with tears in your eyes, seeing him passed out with no knowledge of what’s happening. Begging and pleading silently that he would wake up but never did, will change your opinion of the person you considered your own personal superhero once upon a time.

Two, he got so drunk one night that his own daughter became desirable and he got his rocks off while touching me at a very young age.

Three, I am of no importance to him. I wouldn’t even know where to look even if I wanted t

o.

So with that being said, I want to wish all of you real men out there a happy Father’s Day. Thank you for understanding what it takes to be a father. While also wishing myself a

happy Father’s Day. Another happy day without my father’s presence. Another day passes reminding me that I survived and didn’t allow the hand he dealt me cause me to fail.

Felicia (Ohio Reformatory for Women) (OH)

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Superhero
By Christopher

Every boy has a superhero. Sports figures, actors, comic book characters–it doesn’t matter.

Every boy has his ‘Superman’. Mine has always been my father, but I didn’t always know this.

There was a time, I think, all those years ago in Las Vegas, that maybe my mother could’ve been my superhero. But Mom loved ringing slot machines and riffling poker cards. Even though she abandoned us boys for entire days at a time out gambling, locking us in our cribs and rooms, I still yearned for her. What child doesn’t yearn for his mother? What child isn’t quick to forgive?

My father is an amazing man. When he wasn’t around when I was a boy I didn’t understand. ”Where’s Dad?” I’d ask. ”He’s at work Christopher,” or ”He’s on a business trip,” was always the reply. His absence at my after-school events left me with feelings of loss. There was so much I didn’t understand as a boy.

But upon his retirement, upon the day culminating his distinguished career, during a ceremony surrounded by people that I knew but didn’t truly know until that day, all the past days of my life with Dad became clear. I understood.

Dad had never been absent. He was always there for me and my brothers, working tirelessly so that we three boys wouldn’t have to struggle growing up like he once did. Working to protect family and country. He was, the whole time, my real-life superhero. And like any true superhero, he hid his powers from those around him, never seeking recognition.

Last year I lost my younger brother John and his absence shreds all of us. Me because he was my best friend, Dad because he was his son. I see how it has injured him. I’m powerless to heal my superhero, lost in prison while Fate smirks.

You discover much in prison. Every day is a lesson. Most importantly, you discover what matters in life–family. There’s nothing more important, and I think this is why I’ve surrounded myself with those who don’t have family or a father like mine. Maybe it’s because I understand? Maybe it’s because I want to rescue others from the pain? Or maybe it’s because I’m terrified to lose what little remains of mine, and to be reminded through the lives of others I shall never lose sight of what I have? Honestly, I don’t know why.

Celebrate this Father’s Day, with your superhero while you still can. Love him, cherish him…

…Happy Father’s Day.

Christopher (Madison Correctional) (OH)

A New Year In Prison By Christopher Monihan

On By ChristopherIn Holidays, In This WorldLeave a comment

 

It’s Saturday January 09, 2021 and I’m sitting        here on my bunk writing this. I’ve been busy this morning and afternoon with the dogs I care for. I have a few minutes and so I thought I’d take advantage of it.

I marvel at how every year people tend to see the optimistic possibilities for a new year to come. At 12:00 midnight the world over there are kisses and pledges of new beginnings for a new year. Me? Sure, I’ve been guilty of this.

Continue reading “A New Year In Prison By Christopher Monihan” →

Christmas In Prison

On By ChristopherIn Guest Writings, Holidays, In This World, Women Behind Bars2 Comments

 

Christmas In Prison

By Felicia

Christmas is a day to celebrate the birth of Jesus Christ. Jesus was born in Bethlehem, as predicted in the Bible. It was inside of  a lovely stable that the Christ child was born. Although the month and date of Jesus’ birth are unknown, the church in the early 4th century fixed the date as December 25th. For Christians, knowing the exact birthdate is not considered to be of importance. What is important is believing that God came into the world in the form of a man (Jesus) to atone (make up) for the sins of humanity. So, the primary purpose in celebrating Christmas is to honor the birth of the Son of God.

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Groundhog Day

On By In Holidays, In This World2 Comments

My day today started at 4:45am with the arrival of Kyzer, a German Shepherd I’m currently training. It’s foggy outside, real foggy. I now understand why they call this London, Ohio. It looks like I won’t be able to get any training outside this morning, as this place will count us over and over again until the fog vanishes, and even then they sometimes keep counting. The whole morning is shot.

I just remembered that today is a holiday. It’s no surprise, really, that I’d forget such a thing, as everyday here is like the previous one. Groundhog Day to the extreme. I’m not complaining, mind you; routine is a good thing in This World. Most of the time I pay no attention to the holidays, as I’ve long since stopped paying attention to time. But for what it’s worth, two of my favorite holidays are New Year’s and the Fourth of July. New Year’s because it’s a holiday of renewal and optimism, and partly because all kinds of crazy stuff usually happens here; the Fourth of July, because I grew up in a very patriotic family, and love of country was instilled in us kids at an early age. The 4th was always a special event. I miss the cookouts with family and the fun times…I wonder what the Fourth of July meal will be today?

I just got back from lunch; bland macaroni (no cheese), cold shredded cabbage with vinegar, an orange, and a processed chicken patty. I’m pretty sure the patty is all butts, innards, feet, and beaks. I once watched a special on how no part of a chicken is wasted, and how these parts become processed “patties”, or find their way into dog food…. Whatever happened to hotdogs and burgers?

The fog finally rolled away, and we were allowed movement. I tried training Kyzer, but he wasn’t having any of it. He lasted all of 10 minutes in the 92F heat. Damn the fog; a day wasted. I feel annoyed now.

I’m back on my bunk sweating my ass off. My clock reads 95F. Kyzer has gone for the day. I’m sitting in front of my 8″ fan, praying for relief. I think I’m gonna lay here for the rest of the afternoon and sweat. If I weren’t so hot I’d get up and go take a cold shower, but that involves standing in a long line in a hot and steamy bathroom. I’m gonna make a go at a cat nap first. Someone just told me that the guard is calling for me for some reason. What could he possibly want?

Wow. Someone just dropped off their dog for two weeks of boarding and left no instructions, other than to say they’ll be on vacation, the dog’s name is Jax, here’s some food, dog treats, and two weeks of prepaid boarding tickets (it’s how I get paid). When I asked the guard who dropped the dog off, he simply said, “I don’t know.” Well bud, do ya think you could find out? After some calling around, NO ONE seems to know whose dog this is. Someone must be dead serious about that vacation.

So, today is the Fourth of July. When I was a boy, my dad always took us kids to Washington, D.C. to the clock tower overlooking the Potomac and the mall to watch the fireworks. We lived in northern Virginia, and D.C. was just 20 minutes away. From our perch on the hill, we were close to the fireworks-VERY close, and you felt each explosion reverberate through your entire body. Each burst flash-lit the dark landscape. It was amazing, fun, and awe inspiring. When I grew older, I still went to see the fireworks, except now it was with friends and coworkers. I always staked out the same spots where Dad took us as kids. I wonder if I’ll ever be able to see the fireworks in D.C. again.

Earlier I was in the dayroom watching the world news. Two Muslim inmates were having an animated discussion amongst themselves, about how shameful it is to have a military parade today in our nation’s capital. What? I think it’s shameful that they take for granted that they can say it’s shameful to put on a parade. One of them, coincidentally, was a former cell mate of mine 17 years ago. Unbeknownst to him I had a brother in the Army pulling his first tour in Iraq, when one night after watching the news he turned to me and said, “American troops are terrorists and must die.” Needless to say, I instantly had a hands on understanding with him.

I’m looking out of my window and I can see fireworks. They’re part of the show that the city of London is putting on. Every year they put on a show, and this year is their best one yet. Man, they spent some money this time around. The economy must be good out there.

The show is over now, and it lifted my spirit. It made me remember how much I used to like this day. I hope I can sleep tonight in this heat, because tomorrow comes quickly. I need to be up at 4:30am to receive Kyzer again. Just another Groundhog Day, but I’m not complaining.

*If you enjoyed this post, please like and share with your friends. In the meantime, I’ll keep writing for you! Also, if you know of other blogs written by inmates, please let me know because I enjoy reading what other guys write. Frankly, it helps keep me sane.

—Christopher