The Long Drive Home

Editor’s Note: Although author Jamilah Rosales-Webb had made this kind of trip before, she was inspired to share her experience - one that is ultimately rooted in love - and dedicate it to all the prison wives who make the long journey to visit their husbands. Jamilah is one of the lead participatory defense organizers holding down the San Mateo County hub in California. 

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Art by Khalik Webb-Bates

The three-hour drive up is not so bad. I stop a few times along the way up to use the restroom and stretch my body. As long as I have my music and water, I’m good. It’s the long drive home that disturbs me every time. This is the third prison I’ve traveled to and it’s the longest drive home. The town is beautiful, I still haven’t found “my spots,” - the clean public restrooms, a Chase bank, and a store where I can buy things at the last minute, but I’ve trekked to see my husband at California Men’s Colony in San Luis Obispo three times now. Today was the hardest. Leaving my man behind hit me differently this time for some reason, and I felt urged to write this story that I dedicate to all the Prison Wives. I can only pray and hope feeling this way is for a reason that I don’t know yet, that it will be revealed to me on the long drive home. 

This visit was a family visit. Just him and I together on the prison’s grounds. Waking up together, cooking and having three-hour talks, watching early 2000 movies on DVD, and going to bed together for two nights. The time goes by quickly and I can’t help but think this will be one of the last times I have to do this, that maybe shortly, we won’t have to do this anymore. That the Belgian Shepherd won’t sniff my belongings while three Correctional Officers AKA Police Officers watch on wondering if the dog will react. That these counts at midnight and 4 AM will be memories of the past. I won’t look out the window and see us behind a cage with barbwire, watching the occasional Correctional Officer or Prison staff walk by. There is a small “front yard” but I don’t even want to go outside. For what? To be seen on camera, watched, and smirked at? Or maybe not, perhaps, the guard watching feels sorry for me, either way, I don’t give a fuck. I’d rather savor every moment with my husband because, in no time, I’ll be leaving him behind in prison, getting ready for the long drive home alone.  

I always cry. Most nights there I cry myself to sleep, and he knows, and he consoles me while whispering, “I’ll be home soon.”  Am I dreaming? This feels more like a nightmare. I feel like this is a weekend getaway, like I’m with the man I’m in love with but I know on Monday, I won’t be with him. It triggers me and I loathe the feeling. I shake it off though. I am stronger than this, this is beyond me and above me but tailored and Graced for me. I no longer let the feelings of despair steal my joy because I believe in things greater than myself. I snap back to my husband's presence and enjoy the delicate moments with my person, the love of my life, yet quickly I am reminded how much I hate to leave him behind. Feelings are fickle, emotions are inconsistent. I cry to myself again because this is an up-and-down journey, this storm of emotions can’t be suppressed. Then I’m back to being thankful for this time with him and I tuck away my tears and save them for the long drive home. 

Try keeping the fire, love, and determination alive for years-taking the journeys, spending the money, fighting through Participatory Defense, telling people you don’t know when your husband will come home, answering complex questions, leaving him behind, and taking the long drive home. Then, maybe, you can tell me something about my life and why I advocate and fight against the criminal injustice system and California’s Department of Corrections. Anything can happen in there. This anxiety is on another level. The truth is, the long drive home doesn’t break me, defeat me, or steer me off my path. When you’ve walked in my shoes, then you’ll understand why that drive home is just another part of the fight and why I have a long drive home. 

The long drive home isn’t for everyone. It takes more than just strength- it requires the unwavering strength of David. Persistence and perseverance aren’t traits given to all; they are choices. Faithfulness, loyalty, and trust in God and His promises are battles not everyone is equipped to fight, but I chose to, and more importantly, I was chosen to. Not everyone shares this story. Not everyone understands the weight that I and countless other wives carry as we walk through the darkest valleys. But at its core, the long drive home is about love. The long drive home is rooted in love. You endure the pain, the solitude, and the sacrifice because of love. You return because of love. And every time the long drive home gets me home safely, it reminds me - this is real love.