All month long I’ve been focused on stretching. Yoga mats and exercise balls, Pilates and core muscles. I’ve been paying attention to my body and how it feels when I’ve stretched, how it feels when I haven’t. All things considered, I’ve done well with this resolution. If I were a teacher, I’d give myself a B- for results, and an B+ for effort. That is, until yesterday.
Yesterday I really stretched.
Yesterday, I e-mailed my ex-husband.
A bit of background for those who don’t know me: I was married for sixteen years to my best friend. Well, at least that’s what I thought. It went bad at the end, there, really bad. And my heart was broken. Tragically and irrevocably broken.
That being said, I’ve built a happy, single-girl, life for myself and it’s been a long while since I’ve spent time thinking much about the past. We never had children, so we’ve had no reason to be in touch. It’s been four years since we decided to get divorced and from then forward we had only brief exchanges by e-mail about asset transfers and signing documents. It’s been three years (at least) since we’ve had any contact at all.
Except, we share family. That’s right – I’m still a part of his family and they are still a part of mine. My nephews are a delightful and important part of my life. Their parents are my dear friends. His mother is dear to my heart. And it has never felt fair that that my tragedy has become theirs.
So yesterday I reached out to my ex-husband and simply offered peace. We can be in the same place at the same time, right? We’re still family, aren’t we? And your wife, she’s family too, right? Sure, he said.
We had a pleasant, if rather simple, e-mail exchange and that was it. It wasn’t great. It wasn’t bad. It wasn’t, actually, much of anything. Except the right thing to do.
Wow, I can touch my toes!
Of course when the time does come for our first encounter, it might be tough – that first time especially. But of course, that’s nothing that a fabulous dress and party hair can’t handle.