By By MaryClaire Foster
I was able to put off the inevitable by running another columnist in place of me last week, but, alas, eventually I have to reveal my big news.
As I’ve written these columns nearly every week for the past 11 months, I’ve been able to share parts of my life, one of those being that I have a mother sick with Lupus.
As I think is obvious, my family (second only to attending wedding related functions) is a dominant part of my life.
Being away from my family, even if only a three-hour distance, has been a tough adjustment, especially for someone out on their own for the first time. The separation anxiety was also heightened due to my mother having a chronic illness.
My mother has been diagnosed with Lupus since 1993 and having only not known my mother to be sick for my first eight years on earth, it has always just been a way of life for myself.
I’m not sharing that to elicit sympathy, if anything, having a family member with an illness only made me a better person, but to explain why after the July 29 edition of the paper, my face will no longer be squinting and smiling up from the front left corner of the Lifestyles section.
I’d play my own personal public relations representative and start off in the typical, “After much thought and consideration…” but that would be lying.
As soon as my mother and I spoke of my coming home to help her with, well, just life, I knew what I had too.
There is no doom and gloom involved, my mother has no more idea than the rest of us when her time will be up, but her disease has progressed to the point where my assistance in daily life is much more necessary.
In fact, my mother has a promising stint in rehab (don’t worry only physical) coming up, with me playing the part of chauffer.
So, this fall, instead of writing about students, I’ll once again be becoming one. In college, my indecisive nature inevitably kept me from choosing a major for several years, and then was somewhat appeased with my picking a double major of art history and visual journalism.
Then after spending a semester more than the typical four years at school, I was ready to be done. I knew I wanted to start a career in journalism and would happily finish that degree first; therefore, art history was put to the back burner, now being labeled a minor and not much thought went to it.
Now, however, due in part to both my need of a flexible schedule and a lagging job market I don’t wish to dive into, I will finish my art history degree this fall.
So, yet again, I will be embarking on a new chapter in my life, but for now I’ll save my sob story of how much I will miss Atmore and my promises to visit for another column.
MaryClaire Foster is news editor for the Atmore Advance. She can be reached at (251) 368-2123 or via email at lifestyles@atmoreadvance.com