by Noel Rodriguez
I’m serving a life sentence for taking the lives of two human beings. I’ve been incarcerated 24 years now. If I’m allowed parole next year under youth offender laws, I’ll be 45 years old.
At 45 (I don’t have children) I think I would have a difficult time caring for children, considering I would not have a stable career. But wishing, I would be really loving to my babies. I would name them in honor of my victims Adrian and Richard. I would teach my children to be very compassionate and caring towards others. I would take them with me to participate in community service to show them that life in a community is not just about yourself or believing what others can do for you. But what you can do for your community and learn to be self-less.
I would like to teach my children about hard work. Both of my parents were illegal immigrants who had no money. Today they are American citizens who own their own home, and business. There is no excuse for people born in this country to say that life is rough and not fair. Life is only against you if you accept to believe so. My parents never gave up on their goals, to pursue the American dream.
I promise to never use any type of violence towards them or towards any human. I will never not have time to be with them to show them that I will always be there for them.
My relationship with my parents was not good. My parents made mistakes that affected our relationship. I will not do the things that my parents did with me and my brother. I will not engage in domestic violence, workaholism, alcoholism, I would take my children to church, and show them how a father should care for his family.
I think what makes a good parent is someone who abides by God’s will which is to be loving, caring, protecting, nurturing, compassionate, understanding, just, and able.
The bad memories I have about my parents is their indifference and inability to teach me how to handle my emotional pain and warped thinking. They were always busy working. My father was an alcoholic. And my parents were angry and violent. Very insensitive. There were good at being strict and disciplinary. My feelings were all messed-up and I began to perceive my family as bad people.
The good memories of my parents is: that I have a lot of good memories of them. They cared for us. We celebrated holidays, birthdays, and always had Sunday Barbecues.
The thing that confuses me a lot is how I love the good memories about my parents, but I hate them for the bad memories. And these memories together erected a whole lot of confusion because I felt horrible for hating them and I felt betrayed every time I praised them. It’s tough growing up in a volatile home especially as a child. That’s why I hope to be the best father ever if I ever have kids.
Sincerely,