I saw my ex husband at a Jazz game the other week.
And yet I was.
I knew he was going to be there. He told me earlier that day. We have children together. Talk on the phone almost every day so kids can talk to their other parent. Meet twice a week to switch and reswitch our two most precious assets. Sometimes do things together with June and Hugh. I see him and talk to him often. I should not have been surprised to see him at an event he told me he was going to be to.
And yet I was.
I was with my brother, shuffling through a crowd, trying to get back to our seats after halftime. Inside the arena the crowd roared, cheering on Donovan Mitchell, watching with eager anticipation as our basketball savior continued to awe and inspire.
And then suddenly he was there. Right there. Right in front of me. My ex husband. A stranger in a crowd.
Something about seeing him in that setting, in that way- it completely jarred me. I didn't know what to do. What do you do? What do you do when you unexpectedly in a very public place run into the man who at one point knew you better than anyone in the world but who is now completely foreign to you? A man who you bought groceries with, bathed with, cried with. A man who ate cheese and crackers in bed and always let his toenails grow too long and pouted when he lost at board games. A man who you screamed the f word to in a desperate fit of rage. A man who watched your body get torn apart two different times, two different ways, to deliver your two perfect babies. What do you say to a man who at one point knew it all and yet somehow didn't know enough?
I gave him a friendly punch on the shoulder. That's what I did. A good old fashioned playful slugger.
Hey pal.
Hey buddy.
I think we knew each other once?
Thanks for the memories.
We cool.