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.

forever.

my first father’s day without baba isn’t sad. it’s somehow uplifting. and full of possibility. and light. and hope.

it was an interesting week. i found myself in the emergency room, alone. and reached for my phone over and over again to call my dad. he was always my ‘go-to,’ my hero, my savior, my mentor…my dad, my baba. living without his physical presence has been an interesting ride. one that’s made me stronger. and somehow softer too.

my heart swelled today when someone i don’t know very well (but i’d like to 😉 ) called to check on me and make sure i was doing okay. it’s little things that show a person’s character. and i’m thankful for all the characters in my life.

i’m fortunate that for 31.5 years i had the best baba i could’ve ever dreamt up (that’s saying A LOT, i have quite the imagination). and while my heart aches when i think about him not being able to walk me down the aisle when i get married or my children not getting to meet the man who made me into the person i am today – i am utterly grateful for the time i got to spend with him. baba’s death is a blow that i am still recovering from almost a year later. while visiting my dad at his final resting place today, i shed some (read: many) tears…and it was cleansing. coming up on a year of living without him is surreal.

it’s funny how it takes absence to focus the lens of eternity on a life. i can tell you that with every passing day that hindsight becomes clearer; the guy offering me the delicious tomatoes from his greenhouse as he toiled in the backyard and the man that made me cry by gushing over how proud he was of me at the most inopportune moments will always hold the most precious of places in my heart.

throughout this heartbreaking year, there were times when i felt so alone…i took to journaling how i felt to be able to process my emotions and thoughts. while my pain and feelings flowed onto the page, i found my words directed from my journal to my father. i was basically giving him an update on what was happening. letters to my dad.

my heart felt better after that. in some unexplainable way, i felt his presence. i think those moments taught me that while he isn’t physically on earth to help me deal with life’s ups and downs, his spirit is still here, watching over me.

it is thought that when we lose someone to death, we lose that person forever. but i’ve opened my mind to keep cultivating the relationship, even after death, because the people we love and who hold our hearts will always be with us.

if my dad taught me anything, it was: love is everything. it is such a powerful emotion. love doesn’t die when someone does; and vice-versa, our love for them doesn’t end just because they aren’t there physically. death ends a life, not a relationship.

my brother and i also grow closer, while also teaching each other about strength, family bonds and healing…sometimes, my brother and i remark, “i wish daddy got to see this.” we talk about how our dad would have been so happy to be with us on certain days. but we also knew that he IS happy and he IS there on those days… it’s something i feel now more than ever. by recognizing he is still with us no matter what, we learn to honor him. we honor his memory by living the happy lives we know he would have wanted for us. by keeping him in mind (and always in heart), i feel like he is looking out for us everyday.

even though i can’t feel him squeeze me as i walk through his front door, i feel him in my heart. and the truth is, proximity doesn’t indicate closeness.

happy dad’s day, baba.
i know you’re with me forever.

a year and a day.

i woke up (not so uncharacteristically) early this morning.

like every sunday morning, i thought about what i would be doing with my dad today.

i plopped down at my computer to write and found myself flooded with thoughts of him, but couldn’t find the right words to convey my feelings.

i started rummaging through old files and found this, dated 4/13/12:

i woke up this morning and planned to go to the gym, but instead i started to write…

and i wanted to write about the thing that i had been avoiding writing about: my dad’s cancer.

sunday was always our day. my brother, him, and me. it seemed appropriate that sunday would be the day i’d confront my dad’s mortality and put my thoughts to paper.

but i couldn’t do it.

and i became frustrated.

and so instead i cried.

i hate how easily the tears flow when the words won’t.

and while the overtones are sad, it didn’t make me blue.

sure it’s sunday, and sure it’s the day i miss baba most, but that’s ok.

i can’t change it, and that’s ok.

it wouldn’t change the fact that I still miss my dad almost a year later. or that i would still miss him a little bit every single day. it also wouldn’t change the fact that at every bit of laughter, every soccer game, every sunday, every fight with my mom, every accomplishment, every disappointment, and everything in between, i still close my eyes and wish that he were next to me. and, well, that’s ok.

on a recent trip with my girlfriends i cried to my best friend about how i missed my dad and she said ‘that’s ok.’ so simple. and so oddly liberating. i don’t think she knows how her two simple words impacted me…giving me permission to feel how i feel. even when it doesn’t feel appropriate.

so it’s sunday, i miss my dad. and i’ve learned that there is no right way or wrong way to grieve, there is only your way, and there is my way.