I’ve just been released from prison, and now I’m volunteering for a different kind of bondage. Responsibility for my Grandma. Living in Grandma’s house. I’ll get three hours furlough each day, while the nurse is there. The other 21 hours a day I’m stuck, unable to leave, in case the moment I do is the moment she chooses to fall down the stairs.
There are some distinct advantages over Prison prison. My own food. My computer. More space. A yard with grass and a tree.
Even so, I long for real freedom. Living in a town I love. In a place of my choosing. Some sort of obligations that ends at six o’clock and the rest of the day to fill in any way I want. The feeling of being an independent adult. At the moment, that normal life seems like a far-off dream.