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…

nothing good gets away.

i’ve come across this letter from john steinbeck to his son so many times.
and i love it a bit more each time…
maybe it’s because i miss my own dad?
and maybe it’s because it’s bursting with brilliance…
or maybe it’s because it’s about my favorite topic ever?

in any case, here it is in all it’s glory:
New York
November 10, 1958

Dear Thom:

We had your letter this morning. I will answer it from my point of view and of course Elaine will from hers.

First—if you are in love—that’s a good thing—that’s about the best thing that can happen to anyone. Don’t let anyone make it small or light to you.

Second—There are several kinds of love. One is a selfish, mean, grasping, egotistical thing which uses love for self-importance. This is the ugly and crippling kind. The other is an outpouring of everything good in you—of kindness and consideration and respect—not only the social respect of manners but the greater respect which is recognition of another person as unique and valuable. The first kind can make you sick and small and weak but the second can release in you strength, and courage and goodness and even wisdom you didn’t know you had.

You say this is not puppy love. If you feel so deeply—of course it isn’t puppy love.

But I don’t think you were asking me what you feel. You know better than anyone. What you wanted me to help you with is what to do about it—and that I can tell you.

Glory in it for one thing and be very glad and grateful for it.

The object of love is the best and most beautiful. Try to live up to it.

If you love someone—there is no possible harm in saying so—only you must remember that some people are very shy and sometimes the saying must take that shyness into consideration.

Girls have a way of knowing or feeling what you feel, but they usually like to hear it also.

It sometimes happens that what you feel is not returned for one reason or another—but that does not make your feeling less valuable and good.

Lastly, I know your feeling because I have it and I’m glad you have it.

We will be glad to meet Susan. She will be very welcome. But Elaine will make all such arrangements because that is her province and she will be very glad to. She knows about love too and maybe she can give you more help than I can.

And don’t worry about losing. If it is right, it happens—The main thing is not to hurry. Nothing good gets away.

Love,

Fa

it’s about love.

it’s about love. (isn’t it always?)

it’s about a girl who misses her dad.

it’s about feeling like something will always be missing.

it’s about shakespeare.

it’s about cinnamon & onion.

it’s about sunday evenings.

it’s about learning to play soccer.

it’s about dance parties.

it’s about falling in love.

it’s about wishing on dandelions.

it’s about peppermint.

it’s about wild horses.

it’s about inside jokes.

it’s about feeling like this could be “it.”

it’s about him.

it’s about me.

it’s about time.

storybook love.

once upon a time, i met a boy. he seemed perfect. attractive, attentive, romantic…i thought he was exactly what i needed. looking back now, i realize i may not have been completely over the one before him. i wanted to be. so, our whirlwind courtship was welcomed with open arms. he said everything i wanted to hear… (here are some snippets)

I truly think we will define “power couple” BTW.

If I’m being honest, my four letter “L” word is quickly morphing into something other than “like”. I’m resistant but it’s (you are) truly overpowering. I don’t know how much longer I can hold back.

Is that even normal after what… A week-ish?!

We have always been on the same page. It’s a page I never want to turn, even as we turn the pages of our life. You are the first woman with whom I’ve been so eager to see, do, know, touch, taste, & hear everything with for the rest of my days.

I know that’s a whole lot but it is what it is & I’m not ashamed.

For me it was the flash snapshot of you, looking at me, in a wedding dress. While that’s never happened to me EVER before, my mind said I should be freaked out, but all I wanted was to see it on real life. Strapless, hair up, natural makeup, medium length train… Everything & everyone else was a blur. I think it was a premonition, a sign.

This is getting way too long so I’ll stop for now. I’ll have the rest of my life to tell you how wonderful you are

It’s what true “L” is supposed to be. Took me 32.25 years to find it & I’m not looking backwards or forwards, just into your eyes.

I hate that you are thinking exactly what I’m thinking at the exact same moment. I won’t say “it” via text but I’m very confident & certain you’re the one. I’m excited, exhilarated, passionate, challenged, motivated… All by looking in your eyes, touching your skin, reading to you… Never leave me, “L” me forever & I promise to do the same.

All this in such a short time. I feel like we’re an old movie script. We’ve talked about kids names, I can almost see their faces (wild to realize); how about Taylor (F) & Roman (M) to start?

so, yeah…i swooned. i wanted it to be real.

when he met one of my besties and her husband for the first time, he went on and on about how the way he feels about me should redefine love in the dictionary. and about how we are meant to be together. and about our kids. and on and on…until my bestie said ‘this is the most forward thinking conversation i’ve ever been a part of.’

which made me think…but only for a second – because he was seriously dreamy. and i was ready to dive in.

which made me ignore red flags. (seriously hindsight, you’re SUCH a bitch)

and to be fair (to myself), he did a really good job of hiding some serious issues. and i did an even better job of pretending they weren’t that big of a deal.

there were times when i’d ask him what made him happy and what he liked…and he couldn’t answer. he didn’t know. he hadn’t ever cultivated an identity of his own. so, i encouraged him to discover who he was.

i thought if he didn’t know who he was, he couldn’t know what he wanted for the future. and that scared me. i wanted to be with someone who KNEW what they wanted…not just said what they thought they were supposed to.

on that same vein, i suggested we stop focusing on these future landmarks and just enjoy our present time together. he always agreed. and then we’d revert back to future planning within days.

when we first started dating, i told him about how i loved my alone time. time to write, reflect, and just be. he said he was fine with it. the first time i took a night to myself to write he showed up at my door. unexpectedly. it took me a minute to get to the door and by the time i did, he was gone. and i had an irate message on my voicemail. the next time i went to his home he showed me a dent in the freezer. he punched it that night thinking i was with someone else.
i stopped writing.

i have a group of close besties who mean the world to me. and i don’t see them as often as i wish… so, when we would spend time with them he would end up feeling neglected. and acting out. like a child. i’m talking temper tantrums, drinking himself into oblivion, and one time actually striking me (he claimed it was an accident…and i believed him).

there were friends that i never wanted to introduce him to – because i knew they’d see through him. and it wasn’t a reality i was ready to accept.

looking back now, it seems ridiculous that i stuck around. it doesn’t sound like something i would put up with…but i did. we’d have an issue, i’d start wondering if we should be together. he’d say all the right things. i’d carry on with him… i thought we were working through problems really well.

until i realized that they were the same issues that kept coming up. we weren’t working through anything, he was just playing the part that he was trained to play. reciting his lines. and in the beginning, it was enough for me.

when he first suggested moving in together, i was against it. i didn’t want to move in with anyone until i was engaged. so, we looked at rings. and he asked for my dad’s permission to marry me. just a couple weeks before i lost my dad, i gained a new roommate.

i’m glad he was there in that time. i was a shell of a person. my dad was my world. i still have trouble describing the pain in losing him…when we were in public, my boyfriend was perfect. he was affectionate. and attentive. and charming.

at home, he didn’t have any idea how to talk to me about how i was feeling. i told him i understood. and that i wouldn’t know what to do either. and i’d love if he could just hug me.

he started drinking every night. something i think he was doing before we moved in together…but it was easier to hide.

i asked him about it.
he became defensive.

we started growing apart.
i felt it. i knew it was happening.
i blamed myself.
he felt pressure to live up to my dad’s memory.
i just wanted a partner.
i tried to talk to him about it…
he became defensive.

in his world, acknowledging problems was not allowed. admitting our relationship wasn’t perfect was not okay with him.
i told him fights would happen…and we would need to work through them if we wanted to get to the other side.
he didn’t agree. he said relationships should just flow. there should be no discord.
i loved his idealism.

but i knew better.

relationships are where your issues arise..and where you have to face them. being alone is easy.
he wanted easy.

i went to visit my best friend on the east coast. she has two gorgeous kids. and a husband. during my time out there i realized more strongly than ever how much i wanted a family. my priorities had shifted after losing my dad, but being in the thick of it – i knew i wanted it. and sooner than later. i loved the temper tantrums, the negotiating, the reliving of my childhood through her kids.

when i got back to town, he noticed a change in me. i told him where i was at. the absolute terror on his face told me everything i needed to know… we were broken up within weeks.

after the split, i discovered that he had fidelity issues. (remember my mention of him wanting easy? he got it! she was the epitome of easy.) my friends focus on this as the reason for our break up. it was certainly an underlying factor, but the split was inevitable.

we want different things. the hardest part of letting go was knowing that my dad would never meet whoever i would end up with, that was unfathomable to me.

i had a hard time accepting that my storybook ending wasn’t going to come true. that my fantasy was just that: something made up.

it’s an exact replica of a figment of my imagination. looking back, there’s the terrible weight of memory, but also a love story.

resting in peace.

sometimes the universe protects you from yourself.

once someone is no longer your life, it’s hard to admit that maybe they weren’t perfect…like by remembering them honestly, instead of perfectly you somehow tarnish their memory.

it was sad at first to think that i’d be raising my little one alone. and that she’d never know her dad. especially when mine was such a huge part of my life…and the person who shaped me.

…but after he was long gone, little things came to light. things that make me realize that even if he was still around, he may not be the best influence for my little one. and she deserves the best.

(no, i don’t know if it’s a girl. i’m just guessing that my affinity for pink runs through my blood. and so, i expect a girl. or a boy that loves pink)

i’m confident that i’ll be able to provide sweet pea with all the love she needs. and i’m certain that even without her father around, she’ll be showered in tons of love.

it’s disappointing to realize that he wasn’t the person i thought he was…but since he is no longer around it feels like i’m somehow expected to preserve his memory. maybe that’s an unrealistic expectation that i’m placing on myself, but i want my little one to feel loved. and she is.

in the end, it isn’t about him – or me – or what expectations and hopes there were for the future. since his expiration and the news of my little bundle, all i feel is joy. and hope. and love. and that’s all she needs. (besides my boob. which ironically, he enjoyed as well… too soon?)

anyway, he’s gone. resting in peace.

and here i am, exactly where i’m supposed to be. the twinkle in my eye is now a little sweet pea that i get to carry around all day.

i’ve never felt more love than i do when i think of my nugget… and i have no clue how i went this long without her (OR HIM! ;)) i can’t imagine how incredible it will be when i finally get to meet my little angel.