Richard Feynman

Guardian Unlimited | Life | 'This is how science is done'

Richard Feynman won the nobel prize in physics in 1965. He was on the Manhattan Project. He worked at Los Alamos. He was a profressor. He was regarded as one of the smartest men in the world.

More importantly, he studied humanity. He loved. He had a sense of humor. He cared about education. He played the bongos.

His daughter has published many of the letters that she found years after his death. Many are thought provoking; many are funny. I was enjoying my read of them when I came across the following letter: a letter post-mortum to his wife. I cried. A bunch. This is absolutely beautiful.

D'Arline,

I adore you, sweetheart ... 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 what I have done so much in the past. I want to tell you I 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 to stand there.

I'll bet that you are surprised that I don't even have a girlfriend 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 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.