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William Prentice Cooper Some people enter into this world, it seems, knowing where they belong; however, I was never one of them.  As the middle child of Sara Nell Davis and Kenneth Wayne Moats, I never had that sense of belonging, although logically, I should have.  On Friday, April 3, I flew to South Florida to spend the Easter holiday with my parents, siblings, and their families.  That feeling of being among strangers never seemed as prevalent as it did then while watching my family engage in their various subgroupings of conversation.   Without question, I was the unwanted outsider in the unit who had spent years congealing without me.   Yes, existing within their tightly woven group were a handful who welcomed me with open arms.   But for the most part, no beacon of light shined and welcomed me to the shore.  I'm not sure when my family became strangers to me, but I suppose that is a natural process when you exist far away and beat to a drum that is not of their beat.  My hus