I thought that divorce meant saying goodbye to one person in your life
The flight was filled with many of you; indistinguishable with the same long hair parted down the middle, white platform sneakers, and dainty gold jewelry. Girls who are not yet women, but will be by the end of this year. But when I saw your face, I recognized you right away. Of course, I did. I’ve known you since you were born.
I watched you grow up, giggling with your younger sisters and playing card games with your cousins, among them my own daughter, with whom you share a name — you are both named after your great-grandmother. It’s been a while since I saw you last. Five years, maybe. But I remember you. You are my niece, after all.
No — that isn’t quite right. You are not my niece.
You were my niece.
I thought that divorce meant saying goodbye to one person in your life. What I didn’t anticipate was losing dozens of family members: in-laws, sisters, brothers, nieces, nephews. I hadn’t imagined that 17 years of family could vanish in one day. A beautiful, lovingly built sandcastle erased in the swell of a single high tide.
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