I hadn’t heard her voice in three years. We were divorced that many years ago and I was so wrapped up in self-pity and creating distance that I had not expected to talk to her again. It was not until I finally decided to create a music video using the Sasha track “Baja,” using old video footage of our trip to Baja, Mexico, that I decided to call her. During the editing, I was overwhelmed with nostalgia, and I dialed her number that had been programmed into my phone long ago. Her phone number was one digit different from mine. No one picked up on the other line so I thought that she had disconnected her phone and I would never hear from her again. But the next morning, she called. We talked my entire drive to work. She told me she had moved to Iowa with her new husband, an organic farmer, but she was bored and alone at the house raising her baby. She was in a town of one thousand. Everyone was fat and there were no restaurants, so she had to cook all the time. I could hear the baby talk in the background on the other line. And I felt so much love for that baby, a child that could have been mine, that I was completely overwhelmed. I didn’t let her know, of course. I didn’t want her to have that power over me. Divorce is hell, a traumatic experience on par with PTSD war shit, but we went through with it and I’ll never believe it was for nothing. I hung up with her before going into the school where I work. I have this video, I have the memory of her, and I have the knowing that we tried.