This is the fifth in our series of posts by Tyler who received several life sentences for an armed robbery he took part in when he was 17. No one was injured in the “stick-up” but that did him no good when it came to sentencing.
by Tyler (December, 2014)
Hardtimin” Holidays is what I call this time of year. Speaking from a prisoner’s perspective, the winter season is always the toughest. Every phone-call home, every visit, every letter is felt just a little deeper during this time; even the last eleven years of these winters spent in a small concrete cell has not changed that. Now is when I feel the most…isolated. Loneliness and separation are held close and reminders of better days become impossible to escape.
Yup – Hardtimin’ is in full swing, and crazily, it is my favorite time of year.
Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Years have always been my favorites. Some of my fondest memories are of times spent searching for the best candy houses, looking at Christmas lights, turkey dinners or kissing a girl on New Year’s Eve. Days of skiing and snowboarding, love and heartfelt laughter – these were periods filled with family and friends – those I love. Even as I write a smile forces itself upon my face.
When spent far from home, however, surrounded by high walls, tall gates and heavy locks in a lonely and barren institution, these memories act as both salve and sword.
How is it that when I remember Thanksgiving Days of good food and company and family it hurts? How do dreams of love, comfort and happiness leave me waking with a residue of tears? How can a wish feel like a punch to the gut? The wind is knocked from me when I close my eyes and wish for a wood-burning fire, or to smell the aroma of pines at a Christmas Tree lot? My wishes are of holidays free with family and friends living happy and healthy, productive and successful.
Whatever the wish or memory or dream, it all seems to hurt more this time of year.
But…it is because of these heightened emotions that I say this time of year is still my favorite. Nostalgia is at its highest mark during the winter. My memories are painful, but the pain is sweet and I am grateful for it.
I have come to find that the majority of men in here with me do not have these types of memories. (Trust me when I say that this makes me feel all the dumber for becoming so lost.) Most of my fellow inmates do not know about pine trees and cabins, snow and sledding. When 
a winter desert wind breaths across their faces they do not close their eyes and think of decorations, laughter and love.
So, whatever pain I feel from a past that is gone or hurt that comes from an unknown future, I am lucky for what I have had and still have – Mom, Dad, brothers, sister, aunts, uncles, cousins and friends – supportive and loving and caring, yesterday, today and tomorrow.
The very same holiday memories that hurt, keep me going.
Thank you for reading.
Tyler
Click here to view Tyler’s previous posts:
“Behind and Beyond the Wall”: If I Could Turn Back the Page…
“Behind and Beyond the Wall”: Tyler’s Life and Death on the Mainline
“Behind and Beyond the Wall”: The Gift of Freedom
“Behind and Beyond the Wall”: Tyler’s Story of Finding Life in Darkness