The other day I noticed the trailer we lived in after I got out of prison was for sale. It is on Parker Rd close to the Sonic near Country Club and I pass it each day on my way to work . It was kind of bittersweet to see that For Sale sign because I have a lot of memories there. It is where we started over and were reunited as a family . Since Warner and I both had criminal records it was hard to find a place to rent but after he searched and searched he found this place. He had been working at Albertsons while I was in prison and living with his parents. All he did was save money so when the day came he could pay the rent for almost a year in advance. Before I got out he told me he had finally found a place that would accept us and I felt blessed because I knew he had experienced multiple rejections. As I have said before prison humbled me and although this trailer was much different than anyplace I had ever lived I was very thankful for it but at the same time I was embarrassed that this is where my life had ended up so I kept my distance from others. Those first months out of prison were a time of solitude. I got out in June and the kids participated in the Wylie Wave so they were gone all day and Warner was working. Part of the condition of my parole was wearing a leg monitor and contrary to popular belief among my inmate friends the leg monitor was very strict . I couldn’t leave the trailer , not even step onto the front porch, unless I had approval from my parole officer. The only situations approved to leave the trailer were for a job interview, parole appointment, AA/NA, or church. I reported every two weeks to parole and if I wanted to leave the house in the next two week time period I needed a detailed schedule with appointments made. I am not a detailed kind of person now or then. My license was suspended and I didn’t have a car so needless to say I spend a lot of time alone in that trailer in the summer of 2003. But in hindsight I see that it was good that I had to sit and be still. I was an escapist , I always had been from the time I was a teenager and would drive around aimlessly for hours just to escape the loneliness of my home where my mother was always passed out. Being in that home was so oppressive that I had to get away. I always felt I needed to be on the go. This coping skill carried over into my adulthood. It was not healthy because I would basically run away so I didn’t have to face whatever I had come against. As I would be on the go I could pretend my life was different . In 2003 I was forced to be still and stay when every ounce of me wanted to run because I knew if I left I would go back to prison and I didn’t want that. The monitor was that strict. I faced the reality of what I had done and I faced the consequences of my actions. In prison I was in a survivalist mode , in the trailer I learned how to live with the way things were for probably the first time in my life. Learning that the changes I wanted in my life would take time, that I had to rebuild my life one day at a time. For the first time ever I began laying a strong foundation to build upon , ironically in a trailer that had none. There were times I would begin to feel sorry for myself but in those moments I would remember sweating on the pig farm, cleaning the slabs, and feeding the pigs in the hot Texas sun then going back to my unit and laying on the hard concrete floor trying to cool off with the small fan I had bought on commissary blowing hot air on me. Those memories always changed my attitude to gratitude and I was thankful for where I was. The time in this trailer taught me a lot and God used those years to mold and prepare me . Those memories tug at my heart because they all include Alexis but I will wipe away the tears and thank God for the work HE did in me through those times. Each day I pass so much of my life on Parker Rd, it is where I began to live again and where Alexis Rose to be with Jesus.