I know how much you like to hear that — but I don’t only write it because you like it — I write it because it makes me warm all over inside to write it to you.
It is such a terribly long time since I last wrote to you — almost two years but I know you’ll excuse me because you understand how I am, stubborn and realistic; and I thought there was no sense to writing.
But now I know my darling wife that it is right to do what I have delayed in doing, and that I have done so much in the past. I want to tell you I love you. I want to love you. I always will love you.
I find it hard to understand in my mind what it means to love you after you are dead — but I still want to comfort and take care of you — and I want you to love me and care for me. I want to have problems to discuss with you — I want to do little projects with you. I never thought until just now that we can do that. What should we do. We started to learn to make clothes together — or learn Chinese — or getting a movie projector. Can’t I do something now? No. I am alone without you and you were the “idea-woman” and general instigator of all our wild adventures.
When you were sick you worried because you could not give me something that you wanted to and thought I needed. You needn’t have worried. Just as I told you then there was no real need because I loved you in so many ways so much. And now it is clearly even more true — you can give me nothing now yet I love you so that you stand in my way of loving anyone else — but I want you to stand there. You, dead, are so much better than anyone else alive.
I know you will assure me that I am foolish and that you want me to have full happiness and don’t want to be in my way. I’ll bet you are surprised that I don’t even have a girlfriend (except you, sweetheart) after two years. But you can’t help it, darling, nor can I — I don’t understand it, for I have met many girls and very nice ones and I don’t want to remain alone — but in two or three meetings they all seem ashes. You only are left to me. You are real.
My darling wife, I do adore you.
I love my wife. My wife is dead.
Rich.
PS Please excuse my not mailing this — but I don’t know your new address.
Taken from The Life And Science of Richard Feynman by James Gleick
Richard Phillips Feynman (May 11, 1918 – February 15, 1988) was an American theoretical physicist known for his work in the path integral formulation of quantum mechanics, the theory of quantum electrodynamics, and the physics of the superfluidity of supercooled liquid helium, as well as in particle physics for which he proposed the parton model. For his contributions to the development of quantum electrodynamics, Feynman, jointly with Julian Schwinger and Shin’ichirō Tomonaga, received the Nobel Prize in Physics in 1965.
He was a wonderful teacher, many of his talks c an be found on youtube. I had always like the following statement, it is calming when you don’t know something: “I don’t have to know an answer. I don’t feel frightened by not knowing things, by being lost in a mysterious universe without any purpose, which is the way it really is as far as I can tell. It doesn’t frighten me.”
It seems almost obscenely voyeuristic to read such an intimate letter that never was meant to be seen by others.
Poor man. The letter does illustrate well, however, the potential functionality of delusions and the value of nurturing a rich inner life. Based on widows I have known, his coping strategy is not unusual.
The letter was used by a biographer after Feynman’s passing. It is up to others to sum up a life after the last chapter and line has been written. I suspect that Feynman would not have minded having this letter included
4 thoughts on “Feynman”
He was a wonderful teacher, many of his talks c an be found on youtube. I had always like the following statement, it is calming when you don’t know something: “I don’t have to know an answer. I don’t feel frightened by not knowing things, by being lost in a mysterious universe without any purpose, which is the way it really is as far as I can tell. It doesn’t frighten me.”
Feynman has a reputation well earned,–on many accounts.
It seems almost obscenely voyeuristic to read such an intimate letter that never was meant to be seen by others.
Poor man. The letter does illustrate well, however, the potential functionality of delusions and the value of nurturing a rich inner life. Based on widows I have known, his coping strategy is not unusual.
The letter was used by a biographer after Feynman’s passing. It is up to others to sum up a life after the last chapter and line has been written. I suspect that Feynman would not have minded having this letter included