I sent the latest professionally taken pictures of our kids to Ljubica’s family over the holidays. Standard fare: pictures from school, pictures from extracurricular activities, holiday pictures. I sent them without comment. Ljubica’s mother responded immediately, thanking me profusely and expressing her love and admiration for the kids. (I realized immediately that she had still not been told about the divorce; it must still be a family secret.)

Her brother contacted me today about it. “Beloved Wes,” he wrote. “As far as you’re concerned, we don’t exist anymore, and neither does any other family member of ours. Have a little shame and a little morality. Erase all our contacts. I believe that you are at least capable of this. And one more thing: If Ljubica had cheated on you, it would be different. But I don’t know what kind of people you are. Have at least a little consideration for the family. We don’t want to have any contact with you, either for good or bad. Take care of your new family now. You should have thought about it sooner if you still wanted to be seen as a good man by us. We supported you in everything, but now everything is over because that’s what you wanted. Erase our contact information and please don’t ever contact us or any of our relatives.”

Ljubica sent my mom a message wishing her a happy New Year. “Hi,” she wrote. “I am not trying to apologize for anything. I will not send you pictures of your grandkids (like your son did to my family).”

“I did not ask much from your son,” she continued. “All I asked for was his time. He did not have it. Everything else was more important to him. School, books, more books. He did not make space for me. He buried me with his books. I hope he finds what he’s been looking for in the books. I really do. Books make us smart, I know, but they do not make us better people. During these past couple years, nothing has hurt me more than knowing that he never saw me as more than just a thing. I hope you don’t read this as a threat or anything. I won’t promise to keep in touch. I won’t promise to speak well of your son to my kids. I wish you and your family good health and all the best in the years to come!”

My mom wrote back, “I miss you. I will probably not send many messages, but I will acknowledge you on special days. I also thank you for allowing the children to call on special days.”

Hate has a name: Ljubica. Pray that it not infect our children as it infects her family.