marriage has a nice ring to it.

once upon a time (like, 10 months ago), i was hanging out in a local coffee shop with my good friend.

she asked the dreamy blue-eyed boy next to me about his beverage.

he said something snarky.

i was intrigued.

four hours after talking non-stop and annoying everyone in the coffee shop (including my friend), he left with my phone number.

and now…

why didn’t i meet you sooner?

today while going through some old writing, i discovered that i had jotted down a little snippet of conversation that occurred several years ago while out at dinner with an old flame.

like most things i find amusing, i decided to share this tidbit with my current boyfriend:

waiter: how is everything?

me: my dad died.

(dirty look from my old flame.)

me: he said “everything!” not just the food.

naturally this facilitated a chuckle from my (real-time) boyfriend (he’s as funny as i am).

which prompted the subject question thought…

love has no limits.

i don’t think it’s a conincidence that i found this on the day after father’s day. during my dad’s first long stint in the hospital, we started a tradition of me reading to him while he was bedridden – something that happened far too often in the years following. we started with one of his favorite scholars: einstein. and so in honor of his favorite..and mine (read: baba), i share this letter that einstein wrote to his daughter. it reminds me so much of my own baba: part mad scientist, part adoring father, and all love… it is nothing short of genius.

When I proposed the theory of relativity, very few understood me, and what I will reveal now to transmit to mankind will also collide with the misunderstanding and prejudice in the world.

I ask you to guard the letters as long as necessary, years, decades, until society is advanced enough to accept what I will explain below.

There is an extremely powerful force that, so far, science has not found a formal explanation to. It is a force that includes and governs all others, and is even behind any phenomenon operating in the universe and has not yet been identified by us. This universal force is LOVE.

When scientists looked for a unified theory of the universe they forgot the most powerful unseen force. Love is Light, that enlightens those who give and receive it. Love is gravity, because it makes some people feel attracted to others. Love is power, because it multiplies the best we have, and allows humanity not to be extinguished in their blind selfishness. Love unfolds and reveals. For love we live and die. Love is God and God is Love.

This force explains everything and gives meaning to life. This is the variable that we have ignored for too long, maybe because we are afraid of love because it is the only energy in the universe that man has not learned to drive at will.

To give visibility to love, I made a simple substitution in my most famous equation. If instead of E = mc2, we accept that the energy to heal the world can be obtained through love multiplied by the speed of light squared, we arrive at the conclusion that love is the most powerful force there is, because it has no limits.

After the failure of humanity in the use and control of the other forces of the universe that have turned against us, it is urgent that we nourish ourselves with another kind of energy…

If we want our species to survive, if we are to find meaning in life, if we want to save the world and every sentient being that inhabits it, love is the one and only answer.

Perhaps we are not yet ready to make a bomb of love, a device powerful enough to entirely destroy the hate, selfishness and greed that devastate the planet.

However, each individual carries within them a small but powerful generator of love whose energy is waiting to be released.

When we learn to give and receive this universal energy, dear Lieserl, we will have affirmed that love conquers all, is able to transcend everything and anything, because love is the quintessence of life.

I deeply regret not having been able to express what is in my heart, which has quietly beaten for you all my life. Maybe it’s too late to apologize, but as time is relative, I need to tell you that I love you and thanks to you I have reached the ultimate answer!

Your father,
Albert Einstein

good grief.

it’s been almost three years since my dad’s death, and most days, i’m happy.

truthfully, i’m undoubtedly happier than i’ve ever been…which makes my next admission seem a bit ridiculous. in light of my ‘happier than ever before’ feelings, (there might a boy involved..a dream of a boy, in fact – one that i had hoped existed, and am beyond grateful to discover truly does), there also exists a slight melancholy. it’s dim, it doesn’t take away from the magic of what I’m feeling right now (which is so sickeningly sweet…)

it seems so silly: wanting more when i already have exactly what i want. and have wanted. which leads to (inevitable) feelings of guilt. i am so fortunate. in SO many ways…and still, this one thing – bigger than words – is always missing.

i accepted my new normal years ago and love my life and i do my best to live it for what it is. and it’s pretty amazing.

…and yet there are still moments when i break down crying (or want to), and there are times when i want to scream about how unfair it all is.

being used to something doesn’t mean it’s always easy. and those who love me understand these moments may forever be a part of who i am.

most of the time i just miss him. i don’t feel sad or unhappy, i just feel a void. i picked up a postcard on my last international adventure and said “i’ll send this one to my dad.” the thought was out of my mouth before i was able to process and subsequently, stop it.

i sheepishly set the postcard down…

my dad is still the first person i want to call when i gaze at the moon or see a sky full of stars. he’s the one i want to talk to when i meet someone i can imagine spending my life with… my dad is the person i want to complain to when my brother and i bicker (his fault, naturally).

suffice to say, he is missed.

now, my dad wasn’t a perfect man.
he was awful at giving straight answers.
he applied the laws of physics to practically everything.
i am pretty sure there are places where his photo is up…and not in an honorary/good way, but because if he walks in, someone is supposed to alert security immediately.

no, he wasn’t perfect. he raised his voice from time to time (never at me); he got annoyed when i played with glitter (because it ended up everywhere); he didn’t get me a barbie dream house (the largest tragedy of my childhood existence). there was advice he gave that i probably didn’t need, and other advice that i wish he had shared…

so, he wasn’t a perfect man. so what?

for me, he was the perfect dad, and there’s nothing i wish he’d done any differently expect perhaps linger a little longer on this side.

i remember him imperfectly and completely.

…because it gives me hope. maybe someday someone will remember me the same way i remember my dad?
perfect in his imperfections.

as my third year without baba rolls around, i realize i will probably always miss him.
and even more around the holidays…

i’m learning that grief is ongoing. i may never stop grieving over the loss of my pop-sicle because i continue to love him. acknowledging that is somehow validating. and i’m accepting that there will still be moments amidst the happiest times in my world when the memories and the tears come.

grief knows no depth. as an emotion, it is perfect ~ if you’re bold enough to describe perfection in this light – i am. to some that may sound morbid. or even, depressing. but those of us that know this “perfect sorrow” understand.

you are perfectly, exquisitely sad when you grieve over the loss of someone close to you.

grief, sorrow, and sadness are like any other emotion; you feel it, you let it move through you, then it moves on and out of you.

the burden of feeling a certain way, because it’s more comfortable for others, is just too enormous for me. so i let myself feel whatever it is i’m experiencing without any resistance.

the good news is: allowing yourself this freedom to feel without resistance, allows you to feel the profound joy that is the other side of grief. that’s just how the equation works. the memories of joy and grief go hand in hand.

…that silver lining, it’s always there.

and maybe you didn’t get the barbie dream house because you’re lucky enough to live the dream in real life…