Vickie Hall

When I was growing up, the standard visitation schedule after a divorce was for the mom to have full custody and see the dad every other weekend. I cannot express to you how foreign that felt to me.

Transitioning from having my dad home every night, other than when he worked nights, to now every other weekend was tough. Before the divorce when he worked the night shift, we spoke to him in the evenings. I remember thinking, “Would I still speak to him every night? Was I able to see him in between visits? That seems long.” Long it was.

My parents were the first true loves of my life. I felt safe with them and in our family home. Our home was warm and welcoming, and my parents always made us a priority in their lives. I knew I could depend on them, and they were predictable, which was the best feeling in the world.

I never had to worry about my parents not being there for me or not being supportive. It didn’t matter what kind of day I had either. When I got home I knew they would be there and everything would be okay. I do not remember a time at this age when I felt disappointment or anger towards my parents. When the bus would drop me off after school I couldn’t wait to get inside. It was my safety net, and I could breathe.