But on those cold summer nights, high in the mountains, I'd lay on my back and dream. Dream about my family, dream about the future - dream about freedom. It was always hard to fall asleep after spending all day fighting fires. I don't know if it was the adrenaline wearing off or the feeling of being too exhausted to fall asleep, but I had plenty of time to dream deep into the night. Sometimes dreaming rewarded me with sleep - other times it conjured up feelings of guilt and I was left fighting back tears of frustration and despair over being so far away from the life that I once knew. During the good dreams - I'd imagine the times when I'd be back living under the same roof as my beautiful wife Sallie and our kids. I imagined family dinners again, watching movies together and good old-fashioned date night.
Never once, even when some of those dreams turned nightmarish, did I imagine that I would ever be living back in my old neighborhood, with all the familiar sights, sounds, smells and habits - in someone else's house - as a bachelor. I digress by using the word "bachelor" because I'm obviously still very happily married (and I believe Sallie is too) we just don't live together. There was a time in my life, many years ago, where the idea of living by myself in a house with my own bed, food, TV, room, etc... seemed like heaven. It is, in fact, Hell.
I'm once again reminded that at every twist and turn in my whole prison experience there is something to be learned and appreciated. I miss everything about living with other humans - especially humans that you love. My "bachelors pad" is so quiet when I get home. To the point where I hate leaving work because I know that an empty house awaits. I miss the sounds of life - even the ones that I didn't think I liked. The kids fighting, the TV too loud, doors slamming, babies crying, feet stomping across a wooden floor, an attempted piano practice, balls bouncing - they are all sounds that I took for granted. Sounds that somewhere in my subconscious mind reassured me that I was a part of something greater than myself. The silence of a house devoid of life is deafening. And the things I'd love to see - homework projects strewn all over the tables and floors, dirty dishes, laundry, punk teenage boys stopping by to pick up my girls, bills stacked up on the counter - all tell-tale signs of LIFE - signs of GOOD LIFE. If you're reading this - take a minute and LIVE vicariously through me - don't just appreciate everything that is perfect in your life - appreciate the imperfection that is all around you, the little things that bug you - you'd be amazed at just how much you miss them when they're gone.
One of the conditions of me living "out in the community" is to wear an ankle monitor. It's an entirely ridiculous phenomenon to have something strapped around your ankle at all times. I have definitely gotten used to the feeling of having it on but have not gotten used to the optics. Fortunately, for the past 10 years my work shoes have been cowboy boots so they cover up the device quite nicely. But the 1.5 hours each day that I spend at the gym are where I am on full display. For the first few days, I was extremely self-conscious about it. I went to pretty great lengths to pretend it was something other than what it was - I would periodically bend down and set my watch next to it like I was trying to sync them together (it's an experimental FitBit I'll tell them), I researched diabetes so that I could "talk the talk" when I told people it was a cutting-edge glucose monitor, I considered talking into it (or towards it) to make it seem like the newest wearable Apple product (iAnkle possibly) but my flexibility wasn't sufficient to make it seem feasible to talk into... so in the end, I pull my black sock over it, do my workout and just don't care what people think it is. We can call it iFelon for all I care, it's a scarlet letter of sorts - and I'm OK with that because it means I'm one step closer to the end.
I really am so grateful to be where I am at. I am constantly reminding myself that there were times over the past year and a half where I wasn't allowed to go outside and look at the night sky. My heart is full of gratitude for everything that God has done for me - despite my shortcomings. So many miracles have happened over the past 18 months.
And as it goes..."Gratitude turns what we have into enough."
Brandon Stephens, Weld County Jail, Wood Group, Sentenced, 5 Years, Prison, NFL, DRDC, Rifle Correctional Center, Colorado Department of Corrections, Jail, Judge Quammen, Steve Wrenn, Weld County, Executive, Oil, Gas, White Collar, Wood, BYU, Masters Degree, Colorado State University, SWIFT, Firefighter, Wildland, Sawyer, Fire, Inmate, Brandon Stokey, Miracles, Centennial Community Correctional Center, Delta Correctional Center, DRDC, Denver Diagnostic and Reception Center, Felony, Sallie Stephens, Greeley Tribune, Judge Thomas Quammen, DA Steve Wrenn, Weld County Court, Oil & Gas,. Halfway House, Centennial Community Correction Center, CCTC, Felon, 416 Fire, Silver Creek Fire, Spring Fire, Cabin Lake Fire,
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