When I turned four my parents became part of the statistical divorce rate. They separated and relocated to different cities in Southern California and eventually opposite coasts. In the seventh grade my mother moved to Florida and I stayed in California to live with my father. I only saw her once a year. I was stuck in the middle.
Many people ask if it was difficult to have divorced parents. It's hard to say it's worse, because I have nothing to compare it to, it's just my life. I know that both my parents love me very much and have done the best they could with what they had.
During the fellowship I commuted every weekend to my mother's house in Daytona Beach, Florida. I would leave Friday night after dinner with the Colonial Inn clique and drive back Monday mornings at 4 a.m. It was sad to leave behind all my newly made Poynter friends. I missed some primetime fun with some great people. It was hard to miss out on what occurred during the weekends, whether it was going to the beach, Caddy's or the zany '80s party.
But Poynter gave me more than what I learned in the classroom; it allowed me to know my mother once again. The fellowship gave me the opportunity to rebuild and make up for lost time with my mom. It has been 10 years since I have lived in the same area as her. And the time spent during the last five weekends is something that I will always cherish and never forget. My mother and I overcame the feeling of abandonment and became friends. Thank you Poynter for giving me the opportunity to know my mother and for that I will always be grateful.
