I hate the term ex-wife. I always have. When my favorite sister-in-law, Holli, and my brother recently divorced I wasn’t sure how to refer to her on this blog. In the “character” section she’s referred as the mother of my niece and nephew. As the only girl in my family, Holli has been the only sister I have ever known, and I’m not quite ready to give that up.
The divorce has been an adjustment not just for my brother, but also for the entire family.
We don’t email or text one another as much as we used to, so last night when I got a text message asking if I wanted to meet her and the kids at Starbucks I jumped at the chance. I see the kids as much as I always have, but not her. I miss our girl time.
When I arrived I noticed Holli was wearing a pair of shoes I had given her. At that moment everything that has transpired between she and my brother was instantly gone. They can deal with their shit, and leave Holli and I to discuss more important things like shoes and how damn cute the kids are.
And they so, so are. Last night, my darling niece, Hannah, confessed she only ordered the strawberry frappuccino because it’s pink. I smiled and realized that even though Holli and I won’t be sharing the same last name forever, we will always have Hannah and Carter in common.