Today I had a very long, tiring day at my job, where I am in front of a computer and attached to a headset for 8 hours a day, sometimes longer if there is a clusterfuck of tasks to get done. Yes, clusterfuck. Every day, except for Sundays, of the last month I have driven to the post office after work to check my P.O. box. As a side note, I have my mail going to my P.O. box currently per my husband’s request because at Ely State Prison, that really is where some of the hardcore people are doing their time, and as a safety precaution he would rather not have these people knowing where I live. Fair. So I make my detour to the post office and usually find a letter waiting for me to read. “Read me! Read me”, says the letter with the red prison stamp on the back, and I am happy to oblige.
Usually, I am thrilled to receive letters from my husband. Heartfelt, wonderful, encouraging letters, and then there are days where I seriously want to put the letter back in the P.O. box and go to Starbucks for a Venti 1000 calorie sugar coma. I like to say I have a second job, a third job, a fourth job, and maybe even a fifth job. Being the wife of a prisoner has been eye opening to the amount of work that goes into accomplishing pretty much anything from behind those walls. Jeremy really is quite lucky to have me because I handle a large chunk of what he needs to get done, I get him as much of the information he needs, and I generally wear so many hats, I would feel comfortable applying for any number of jobs on the market at this point in my life. *Can you please look this up for me? Can you find this for me? Can you contact this person for me? Can you email this person? What does this mean? I need this printed, please. I love you. Thank you. * He always says please, and thank you, and that he loves me, so how can I really ever say no? Plus, he knows I`m dependable because I struggle with him. This isn`t his struggle, it is OUR struggle, every single day.
My knowledge on certain functions of the law has gone from nonexistent to “I know a little bit about that” and my ability to communicate with the world has gone from awkward to strong and able. I know that all these hats that I`ve chosen to wear being Jeremy’s wife not only benefits his ability to fight for his rights and freedom, but it benefits me as well. I find myself in over my head usually, looking around for answers or help from him when there is no way for me to talk to him and then something happens. I find myself winging it, finding the answers myself, and really just giving my best in an area, or areas, of life that I know nothing about and would never have even thought about if it wasn’t for my close personal relationship with the Nevada department of Corrections.
So while today I am frustrated by everything I need to get done, everyone I need to talk to, the research I need to do, the letters I need to write, and the face I have to put on for the world, I know tomorrow, what I do today, will benefit the amazingly adaptable person I have become.