Tag Archives: memories

by | June 2, 2019 · 9:28 am

44: Love.

The greatest measure of a person’s life is found in love.

Warren Buffet, some 18 years ago, defined it further as whether or not the people you want to have love you, love you.

I used to believe that. Until I realized that approach can be gamed. You can pursue only the reciprocal. You can choose to stop loving those who don’t love you back. I don’t buy Warren Buffett’s advice.

It’s selfish. It sets us on a path where we are judged by the way people see us. That’s great for history books. It’s not a great way to move forward in life. It’s downright unhealthy.

I believe he’s onto something; he just got caught up on the validation. On outcomes. Outcomes aren’t always ours to take credit or blame for. What is ours is our effort, our motivation, our approach. Give me the right work over lucky outcomes any day. Really.

Which is why I see it differently. At 44. With two kids. Who I struggle with on a moment to moment basis between who I want them to become and what I need them to know: which is that I love them, no matter what.

And the latter point is where it clicks.

To me, that’s the greatest measure of success today. Loving. No matter what.

At scale.

I wonder then: Have I found a way to love everyone I meet? For some reason? Have I found a way to love more no matter what you get back?

You don’t love so you can be loved. You love simply to love. Love isn’t something you can channel, or direct, or choose.

Love Just is.

The greatest measure of a person’s life is how much, how far, how wide — how truly and honestly, you love.

In year 44, I vow to love more, regardless. I vow to just love. And I believe if I can do so, it will be my most successful year ever. And if I can’t. I’ll be back here writing the same thing for year 45.

#iamgrateful and #iamthankful for year 44 and for the opportunity to love more.

Be well.

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by | February 4, 2019 · 8:14 am

365

I’m gonna take a shower in a bit. #iamgrateful and #iamthankful and #wemissyou Life will never be what it was but it will move forward and we will squeeze the hell out of every moment.

https://www.facebook.com/photo?fbid=10102622415560004&set=pcb.10102622416213694
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by | January 31, 2019 · 9:39 pm

#iamgrateful #iamthankful

A year ago I wrote a post about how grateful and thankful I was for the opportunities 2018 presented. Two days later, my father died.

My life changed profoundly on that day and I’ve spent the past year thinking about how to live a more deliberate life. I decided to document that here and I’m working hard to translate this to our team Crazy Egg and to the people who we work for every single day.

https://lnkd.in/gZiEuUz

Feedback welcome.

#iamgrateful#iamthankful

Thanks to Hiten Shah Amee Shah John Butler and Neil Patel for the support they showed me that first month and every day ever since.

https://www.crazyegg.com/blog/its-time-to-start-paying-attention/

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by | January 1, 2019 · 1:16 pm

FOR BEING DELIBERATE or THANK YOU MOM & DAD

2018 … was not easy. Personally. Professionally. It was a year that shook me to my core.

Upon heavy reflection, specifically the past 6 weeks, I realize it’s no coincidence that it ran in parallel with my stepping back from public, daily, gratitude. So today, on the first day of the year, I want to acknowledge the role I played in defining 2018 (on all of the wrong feet), and I want to set the footing…straight. I’ll start with celebrating two people for whom I have no words.

Mom and Dad.

Not those of blood and birthright. But those of luck and choice. Priya KC Bhatt‘s parents. More powerfully, my parents for the past decade plus.

Today…they were there for me, my sis, and my mom … and to them, they’ll think nothing of it.

How do you explain tonight? New Year’s Eve? For my entire childhood I remember my parents making a go at whatever America threw at us, for us. Halloween. Valentine’s Day. Birthdays. Christmas. Thanksgiving. July 4th. You name it. They absorbed, adopted, acclimated, and served my sister Anu Kiran and I a platter, a feast, of moments. But New Year’s Eve? That was theirs.

They partied and threw down in a way that would make the most velvet of ropes feel inferior.

Until February 4th, 2018. When Dad skipped the line and entered the next venue a bit before Mom (she’s destined to enter that party at some point, some days she’s more eager than others, but we know he’s already paid her way and is merely inside, holding a hightop table, with her drink ready … Gin & Tonic … hell, he probably told the barkeep how to make it). New Year’s Eve was them. Until it wasn’t. Today. It wasn’t. How do you fill that void? You bring two amazing kids along for the ride. And wow. Anaiya and Jaanu …they fill voids. They fill canyons. They’d turn the Grand Canyon into a Nebraskan highway.

But how else do you fill that void? You marry into the Chadha family. And you watch Satinder Chadha and Daljit Chadha step into the most complicated of spaces and bring smiles, fun, love, happiness……they act like they had no other place they’d ever been and no other place they’d want to be.

And actually, there’s no acting. There’s just them.

We’re blessed. I’ve got nothing else to say. We’re blessed. #iamgrateful and #iamthankful for Mom and Dad C and have been from day

1. But even moreso, on days like today, I’m beyond thankful and grateful.#iamspeechless

Daddy went back to the bartender tonight. He asked for some extra ice cubes. “She’s going to be a while” he said.

“She’s in good hands.”

Happy New Year.

Not an easy New Year. But a Happy one.

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by | September 23, 2018 · 8:56 am

REMIXED RAIN or CRUTCHES

We distributed your ashes today. There’s so much I want to write and say but I don’t know if I have the energy for it: too much life happening recently.

I do want to share a few things, though.

For example, when we took your body down in India and prepared you for cremation, the sky opened up and refreshed the earth with rain. Quickly. Just while we carried you down. It stopped precisely when we hit the ground floor. Well, today, we took those ashes from that day for distribution. And when we sat in the car, and turned away from our cul-de-sac, our windshield began to be spotted by rain again. Just for the drive. Just for those 22 minutes. It was beautiful. It’s too poetic for me to leave it as a coincidence. Instead, I used it as a crutch for the ceremony. I needed crutches. My knees were ripe to buckle a few times — mom’s face, Tita’s tears…most powerfully when your grandkids were participating. Throwing your ashes to the wind and water. Oh wow. Then. Yes then.

Those rain drops. Ami Chhatna, gave me some strength. It was beautiful to see even Mother Nature bow her head and shed some tears for you.

You’re also, all space and air and memories and legacy now. Your ashes are no longer in our house. That was a crutch for all of us too. It sounds silly. But that box in the house … that was comfort. It’s no more. And that’s hard. That’s really hard, Daddy.

Mom said it. “It’s real.” And she said so much more. Yes, we are going to be fine. But yes, it’s still so hard.

Finally. I wore your shirt today. I shaved this morning. I had my glasses on. And when I saw myself in the car window I startled myself. Honestly. I did a double take. I thought I saw you. And then I looked harder. I saw what looked like a wire hanger holding up your shirt. Hollow. Two dimensional. Empty. There’s so much legacy, love, life, to fill. If I have to be honest, which I have to be, I’m not filling it. I’m just not close to filling it.

You are your legacy longer than you are your self.#iamgrateful and #iamthankful for how you are being carried forward. How people are keeping you alive. How your presence is being maintained even as your person moves More permanently into the past. That’s beautiful. That’s a crutch. When people talk about you and remember you. Those are little crutches too.

I look at all you’ve left behind. Your legacy is incredible. It’s humbling. Mine pales, Daddy. #truth. It’s been a lot to process. But truth is truth. However when you see those grandkids of yours I think the world sees all the best of you carrying forward. That’s also your truth. They are some of the best of your legacy. And that too…is perhaps my strongest crutch. You. In them.

That’s beautiful too.#iamgrateful and #iamthankful for that We miss you, Daddy. It was chilly today. You’d have hated the weather. But loved the day.

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by | September 12, 2018 · 9:17 am

9/11 vs TUESDAY 9/11 or THE NEW NORMAL

I desperately wanted to make it through today. September 11th.

It’s an eerily odd year because the days (the 9th, the 10th, the 11th) all fell on similar days as they did in 2001. When life synchronizes emotion with progression with time with numbers, things become more real. When September 11th falls on a Thursday or a Saturday it means a lot to me but it does, very honestly, mean a little less than it does when it falls on a Tuesday.

When it falls on a Tuesday my September 11th starts on Sunday. When we grabbed breakfast while watching football. And when we roamed NYC. Or when we caught a friend’s one-man show before hugging on the corner Christopher and West 4th for a “see ya later” … that turned into a “goodbye forever”. I was young then. I’m old as sin now. Forever is way more probable than later. With life happening as fast as it does. Forever is way more possible than later. These days. This year.

F*ck you 2018.All I wanted to do was pour a Guinness down my throat and say goodbye to this Tuesday in September that’s graded on a curve, that’s weighted on a curve.

That’s all I wanted to do. Until I heard your news, buddy. Luke Haseloff you’ll be sorely missed. I called you every time I swapped jobs. We were going to make Jersey City happen (hell, from that email exchange last night it was going to happen in September or October! But it was going to happen.) WHOA was it going to happen. A month away from this birthday. Networking events in full swing….and I guess that’s the problem. It was probably going to happen. It was possibly going to happen. But now it won’t happen, forever. And there’s the rub. Forever is now more likely than possible or probable.

And I hate my new normal. I’m not doing enough to fly in the face of it. 2018 has presented a new challenge what feels like every other week. But as I explained to a friend this weekend who suffered through the tragic death of a loved one — so young, at the peak of life — as I worked through with a friend … I realized, this is our new normal.25 years ago it was sweet sixteens.22 years ago it was turning 21.20 years ago it was graduation.10 years ago it was weddings.5 years ago it was birthdays.

Today. And forever. It’s not possible. It’s not probable. It’s forever.

Today. It’s about remembering. That’s scary as hell. Until you realize it’s not probable. It’s not possible. It’s truth. And when it happens. Your forever is based on what you were. Not what you thought you were. Or wished you were.

Just what you were. My answer: not good enough. Not good ENOugh. TO EVERYONE we’ve lost. To everyone we’re with.

NOT GOOD ENOUGH. As I whack my head against my monitor and my computer screen and my past 10, 15, 20 years.Am I doing enough? For the people I love. Even like?

It’s a simple answer. No. NOT enough. It’s a start. Learn from loss. Learn. From. Loss.

Or it’s just loss. #iamgrateful and #iamthankful for … whatever time life affords me. I don’t have anything else to say. Good. Night. Goodnight.

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by | May 22, 2018 · 7:51 am

JUST MONDAY or UNVARNISHED TRUTH

I’m good. I’m truly honestly and undeniably good. But, I wanted to share this because I think it’s the kind of thing that…more folks just need to know, or read, or share. Just because…good doesn’t mean purely good, there’s always an underlying truth. 🙂

Four times.

Today.

On four distinct, unique, unrelated moments, I’ve had tears stream down my face. Not a tear. Not a couple of tears. Not the kind of tears that are wiped away with the back of one hand swiftly, or hell, even slowly. Nope. Streams. The kind that form patterns on your face. Where one tear blazes a trail for others to then follow. Drops turn into flow, and it’s the kind of flow so smooth and so steady that even the greatest Nuyoricans would step back and hand you the mic.

That’s my face. But my face and my tearducts are a mere preview, a trailer. of the thoughts and memories. I’m rocking your polo right now. I got angry when something wasn’t in its right place earlier today. I got angry because it wasn’t. I then got mad at myself for being you. I then got sad because there was no (practical or physical) you.

I ate eggplant and mushrooms almost as a rejection of your palate. I struggled at work, really hard today, because I felt like there were objective truths that weren’t being acknowledged. And I found myself having a handful of very productive, unvarnished and fully honest conversations with people that were representative of your spirit (it’s not about me, it’s not about the idea, it’s about your contribution to the bigger, collective idea, that’s what will make the world move forward.)

And then…mom…your wife. 45 minutes between wrapping up dinner with Anu Kiran and Drinda Kay and closing her iPad and heading up to bed with your granddaughter (who still misses you so publicly and so potently), posted this pic.

And it’s just Monday. And this photo, just says it all.

And you know, it all just sucks. But we’ll also, just keep moving forward. That’s, just life. And I’m good. Just, good. I’m good. #iamgrateful and #iamthankful for this polo. I’m going to sleep in it tonight. Just…because.

I miss you and I love you, and … we’ll keep just doing our best to honor you.

PS – Make that five times. Once while writing this.

May be an image of 2 people and people smiling

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by | May 14, 2018 · 6:17 am

HAPPY MOTHER’s DAY or PROFOUND YET PROFOUNDLY DIFFERENT

Today was beautiful. Pure love across generations, with Anaiya and Jaan very squarely in the middle. From the moms who raised me even though I wasn’t blood (too many to list), To all my friends who are moms (forthcoming, first time, or on infinite repeat).

To Masi and Masis, Mamis, Fai, Bhuas, Kaki, Chachis, Nani, and Nani, who were here but weren’t “here”.

To Ba, who first taught me how unqualified love should be.

To my Sis, Anu Kiran, who’s a mom in sister’s clothing.

To my Mom, Satinder Chadha, who’s taken me in as a son from day one.

To my Mumma, Renu Bhatt, who’s at the center of all I am.

To my wife, Priya KC Bhatt, who’s at the center of all I want to be.

There’s nothing more profound than these moments. Today was beautiful.

Today was also profoundly different. 2018 and the first part of 2019 will have many of those, profound yet profoundly different moments. It’s nice to have love all around you as the universe insists on moving forward.

For all the rains, there are no dark clouds hanging over us. Just stars, moons, and a profoundly different POV on everything we have going on down here.

Thanks for bringing it all home, Anaiya. #iamgrateful and #iamthankful

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by | February 15, 2018 · 8:12 am

12|40 or HAPPY BIRTHDAY, Priya

Today marks Day 12.

12 days since my Daddy left the physical world. Hinduism is incredibly ritualistic. I’ll leave it at that. But in essence, our family is using the next few days as a way to help my father’s soul find peace as it rises to the universal soul, while also slowly bringing an end to the mourning period at which point the family is supposed to more formally transition back to normal life. Yeah. Thanks for the roadmap, Hinduism.

What I do love about the way we celebrate someone’s death is one key point: danam, which literally translates to gift or offering, but in the context of mourning and death rituals, it more spiritually means charity.

Our family will travel to a local school for children facing physical and mental difficulties, and bring them a fun, healthy and indulgent lunch. 200 kids. My father spent his life serving people (family, friends, the community at large). For all the pujas, prayers, moments of silence, and fantastically colorful and sense overwhelming procedures, this is the single greatest thing we are doing to honor Daddy’s legacy and soul.

This is the single greatest thing we can do to help him achieve universality (though he’s done more, with plenty leftover, to cover his journey and credit a world with what he has left over).

12.

That’s the 12.T

he 40?

That’s my wife.

She turns 40 today.

You’ve heard me write, over and over again, that Daddy said out loud and often, that Priya is the single greatest thing to happen to me and to our family. He knew his sh*t.

Today’s her birthday. A big milestone birthday. On the day that the celebration of my Daddy’s life moves from the inauspicious (mourning) toward the more auspicious (celebratory), I don’t find it to be any coincidence that we’re sharing this day with Priya’s 40th.

She’s spent the past two weeks dealing with two kids, bouts of the flu, kids with nightmares, kids with 4am fevers, all while facing an incredibly demanding stretch at work, all while mourning and grieving for her Daddy too. And she’s done it with grace, dignity, huge smiles, and without missing a beat.

She spoke at an impromptu religious ceremony held by our community in South Jersey (what an amazing extended family, those friends we’ve known for 50 years in South Jersey) and carried the full thoughts and weight of our family on her shoulders, and delivered the kind of thank you that my Daddy would have raved about for years.

She made him proud. As she always did. This is the woman whose vows to me during our legal ceremony 7+ years ago anchored in her promise that we will always be there for our family (collective). We didn’t know how soon or how often. But she’s never wavered.

The way she has handled the past 12 days is evidence and validation of Daddy’s earliest words to me about her: she’s the best thing.12 days.40 years.12|40.

Priya, you and Daddy are bonded together in eternity, in service and in the most celebratory and auspicious of ways. I smile wide today for that reason.Hey, best thing. Happy Birthday. You make all life and love possible.

Udabes. #iamgrateful and #iamthankful for you. We all are.

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by | February 14, 2018 · 4:31 pm

LOVE or THE INSANELY FINITE

The ability to feel love, is for all intents and purposes, eternal. You express it involuntarily from the moment you’re born, and you express it in whatever form possible for as long as you’re humanly capable. But the ability to show that love to someone, to extend it to the people you love, to know they feel it in return, is incredibly finite. The ability to make someone feel loved is INsanely finite.

For today, for this Valentine’s Day, I hope you are motivated by the insanely finite in pursuit of the infinite.

#iamgrateful and #iamthankful that I kissed my Daddy on the cheek every single time I saw him, and every single time I said goodbye. Including when I landed in India last week. My love for my father is infinite and will carry with me until my own last breath.

My ability to say it to him directly, and to know that he has heard me, to make sure he knows he was loved, feels today, very much in the realm of the finite. Love your family. Love your friends. Love the people around you. Not the way you want to love them, but the way they want to be loved.

Love them not so you can say aloud that you expressed your love, but rather, so that someone very comfortably and very consistently and very clearly says “I know you love me.”

Love you all. I do.

Happy Valentine’s Day.

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