Please keep in mind that this blog often has comments and statements directly from the women on death row. Statements of grief, statements of innocence, statements of regret and sorrow. If bearing audience to these women's feelings, my opinions or those of commenters offends you please do not read on.
I guess its just me but things always seems easier, better, right- at my parents house. Well, before my mom died that is. I remember feeling like that at my grandparents too. Its like its some kind of a magic place. A place where nothing bad happens, where you have everything you'll ever need and theres nothing to do all day but enjoy life. I get that feeling now when I visit my Aunt Stephanie. She is my mothers siter and sometimes I feel like the only family I have left.

Since my mother died I have become the impromptu matriarch of the fam. Every holiday finds my family at my house. I field all the arguments and am first on the emergency call list.

Bt at Aunt Stephanies Im a kid again. Everything is better than my house. The air conditioning is colder, the snack food is tastier, the t.v. is bigger (WITH Dolby surround sound and HD!) And it just seems like a little slice of heaven. The bath tub is clean and there is always milk in the fridge.

Studying the phenomenon of my feelings makes me realize that I am so many different people. But I think everyone is. The part of your personality that is most relevent appears in any given situation.

I am a stay at home mom of six kids. I am eagerly looking forward to beginning my conversion to the Catholic faith in August, Im a writer, Im a gardener, I love to drink wine and I love dancing. But Ive also been in jail and homeless, Ive drank till I passed out and smoked pot, Ive been raped and Ive traveled the country on a Harley. I was beatten as a child and watched as my mother was almost killed by violent crime.

I think that you have to embrace all that you are, all that you have been to become someone new and better. We are direct results of our past. Not only are we what we eat but we are what we live.

When you see someone who has done something that is deplorable, think to yourself what that person has lived through. All the way back to childhood. How can a person know right from wrong when they were never taught. If you were a child that was abused and abandoned, a child that was born and then no one would take any responsibility for- just tossed aside and allowed to live but nothing else. How would you learn right from wrong? How would you learn a sense of values? How would yu learn anything but how to survive?