17 Dec 07

Homecoming (Part2)

During the two days I spent being transported my vision worsened. By the time I got to the airport at Gatwick, I was unable to see my parents waiting at a gate crowded with hundreds of other people. Then suddenly, Mum came running at me, her jacket flying in the air and landing on the floor. I put down the box containing the few items I’d brought back to the UK, and I hugged Mum, lifting her off the floor. My sister, Karen, tears streaming down her face, joined the hug fest. And finally Dad.

In Dad’s Ford Mondeo we travelled to Karen’s flat in Fulham, London. I looked at this blog online for the first time. I posted a blog. Your comments made me smile. At Karen’s, I was inreviewed by a documentary maker who began to record my return to society. I met my sister’s husband, a tall and handsome photographer, who had recently survived an attack by the Taliban in Afghanistan. At night, we went out for an Indian meal, and I was still eating fifteen minutes after everyone else had stopped.

The next day, after doing two BBC radio interviews, we travelled home on the motorway system. The journey took five hours.

Seeing my hometown and hearing the accents of the people in a fish and chips place brought back all kinds of memories. I felt as if I were in a dream. Seeing inside my parents’ home brought back even more memories. I ate, went on the computer, and tried to sleep. But the cold made it hard to get to sleep even though I wore socks, a beanie, and a dressing gown, and I was buried under two fifteen-tog duvets in a room with the radiator on. My head trembled and my ears felt as if they had turned to ice. Allergies started, and I only slept for a few hours, making my vision worse.

The next morning my parents took me on a shopping spree at ASDA Wal-Mart. I loaded up on fruit, nuts, cheese, bread and beans. I haven’t stopped eating since I arrived home; it’s as if my body knows there is food available. The evening meals cooked by my parents seem to be coming from food heaven.

Claudia called and wished me good luck. She has a boyfriend now. My best friend from my hometown, “Hammy” stopped by with a bottle of Lanson champagne. Hammy and I used to copy Miami Vice fashions in the eighties, including wearing pink tops, white pants, and no socks. He offered to make me a key to his flat and to hook me up with some of the local nymphomaniacs. Hammy looked healthy and I enjoyed our talks.

I managed thirteen hours of sleep that night. My moods have been mostly up, but interspersed with tiredness. My mum is upset with all of the time I’m spending on the computer. I have begun the long task of editing the blog.

I’m happy to be home, and I feel no urge to sneak back into America. I’m enjoying concentrating on my literary projects, and listening to some tapes from The Teaching Company, a course called “Classics of Russian Literature”.

I’m going to be seeing plenty more of my family and friends over Christmas, including Aunt Lily and her numerous descendants.

More details of how I’ve been doing since arriving home are available at Mum’s blog:

Email comments to writeinside@hotmail.com or post them below

Copyright © 2006-2007 Shaun P. Attwood


Ron Larson said...

Just curious. Normally in the US when a felon leaves prison, they are on probation for a while. Are you on probation? Do you have to report in from time to time? Or are you completely finished with ADOC now?

Anonymous said...

I am not on probation.



Anonymous said...

Ohhh... That made me cold just reading it! I hope you've been warmed now by lots of hugs by now.

I know you mother posted that you've had your eyes checked now, but I just wanted to say-- big swings in blood sugar levels can cause blurry vision, and your body is certainly going through a LOT of adjusting. Take it easy, take care of yourself, stay warm, and listen to your mother!! :) :)

Mary in NC

Anonymous said...

Best of luck in your transition, Jon. I've been following since your Maricopa (sp?) days. I admire your will to remain optimistic. At only one point do I recall you saying anything negative, something about a swinging door reminding you of your time ebbing away.

I'm curious about something. At some point your attitude towards your prosecution seemed to turn from bilious to accepting. Is that true? If so was your change of heart genuine, or did you not wish to jeopardize your release?

This is petty, but I have to know: what is Xena's race? I've tried to imagine her but was stymied by this detail.

Don from Seattle

Anonymous said...

Hey Jon- As a criminal defense lawyer in Colorado, I have found your blog amazing. Enjoy your freedom!

Chris Phoenix said...

You probably know this... and no one likes advice anyway... but you may want to cautious about following the lead of friends from pre-life-change days who offer to hook you up with nymphomaniacs. Sex with partying types might lead to partying with drug types... just take it slow and think about where your companions may want to take you and what lines to draw in advance.

Don said...

Puggles and I send our best from Puggingham Palace. Relax friend and enjoy the world for a bit.

Anonymous said...

In response to Don's questions:

Xena is white with a twist of Indian.

My attitude to the prosecution was sour in the beginning because of the way I was portrayed. I slowly understood that my karma had brought all this about and I set about accepting my karma cheerfully.



Sue O. (aka Joannie, SS) said...

Yeah, I'm afraid I have to agree with guy goo re: Royo situation and Chris in this one-don't let yourself get caught up in anything that will squeeze off the new life you've got now. You've worked far too hard to get here, and there are fantastic, bright, beautiful people supporting you...and you will only find more of them if you keep to your path. Sorry to be a wet blanket, but trust me on this one.

Anonymous said...

Jon, go get laid for me homeboy. Find yourself a nice looking betty and lock yourself in the room with her for a few hours. Don't come out until the visions of Frankie are completely abolished. Cheers! -Jose in San Diego

Anonymous said...


Anonymous said...

Brilliant comment Jose, but it's hard to shake thoughts of Frankie.

Pippa said...

hey shaun,

it is the best thing ever to hear that you are home, well and becoming obese. i have started bikram yoga (yoga in a 40degree room). i think you would enjoy it a lot. you never named my car! anyway, reading your blog this evening has made me smile because i can feel a tiny piece of the happiness you feel to be home and in good company. merry christmas. xx

frederik said...

Dear Shaun

Very very merry Christmas, all best wishes for you in the many years to come.

from a couple of brothers who've followed your strange life for the past couple of years and is very happy you came out on the other side

lots of love

Frederik & Adam

Anonymous said...

It is great news that you've made it home. All the best for the future.

Take care with the booze - it's a drug as much as anything else - just one that happens to be legal!

Anonymous said...

You said you will be editing your blog?
I hope i won't have to go back and re-read the whole blog to get all the juicy details that you couldn't tell while you were on the inside.