16 December, 2009

Love After Death

This entry was originally posted on the modernpoly.com blog. It is reposted here for reference only.

My partner’s first love is dead.

Robin lost Marta in 2001, nearly nine years ago, yet the loss is still quite fresh in her mind. Not a week goes by without Marta coming up in conversation in some way; and I am quite certain that not a day goes by without Robin thinking of Marta.

I never met Marta, but through Robin’s thoughts and words, I cannot help but to feel as though I know Marta intimately. I know so much of what they did together; their ups and downs, their successes and their failings. There is no event that Robin and Marta shared that I do not also know by heart.  I have been with Robin for many years, and I have already memorized every story she has of Marta.

Twice a year, and sometimes more, an entire day is dedicated to Marta. On her birthday, and on her deathday, Robin celebrates Marta’s life with stories and memories and a whole lot of crying. I join in the celebration, and also in the despair. Robin is the love of my life, and I am hers; but also Robin loves Marta. Robin will always love Marta. True love does not falter after only a scant nine years apart.

Sometimes, when Robin isn’t around, I look through her old scrapbooks of Marta.  Marta is beautiful — more beautiful, perhaps, than Robin’s words of her.  There are pictures of Marta from the week of her birth all the way to the month of her death.  In some, she is smiling, while in others she seems bored.  Sometimes she is running; in others, she simply naps.  Looking at them makes me cry, for I feel Robin’s loss as cleanly as though it were my own.

Every night, as Robin and I tell each other how deeply we are in love, I know that she is also saying good night to Marta, her other lover. And it makes me happy. For I am in love with two women, one of whom I’ve never met. And I never will.

15 December, 2009

Dinner Impossible

Note: This article was originally published on Share Our Strength's No Kid Hungry website.
Share Our Strength appeared on Food Network’s “Dinner Impossible” this last week. Check out Chefs Robert Irvine and Guy Fieri as they join Share Our Strength to provide Holiday cheer for 300 California kids-in-need.

09 December, 2009

The differential operator is coming!

One day, in Mathland, you and x are walking around, talking about the weather. After a while, x2 and ex join you. The conversation moves to more small talk when, all of a sudden, 1 comes running by, screaming: "The differential operator is coming! Run for your lives!"

x and x2 look around nervously and tell you they have to split. After they leave, you turn to ex and ask what the problem was. "Oh, that's the differential operator, d/dx. When he gets close, he has to act. For 1 it's especially nasty, since he will completely vanish. And also for x and x2 it's quite irritating. But for me, it's no problem; I'll just transform into my old self again." And with a 'poof', he suddenly vanishes. You hear a soft noise behind you and you turn around.

"Hi," says the differential operator. "I'm d/dy."