Staring into the waves, hearing their hypnotic crashes, I started thinking about my dad—about all the summer vacations we spent at the beach, about his sudden and unexpected death two years ago, about his impermanence against the permanence of the waves.

That’s when the thought crashed into my mind, uninvited: “Your dad is dead and the beach doesn’t care. And the beach will still be here long after you’re dead too.” And thus began my midlife crisis. [ . . . ]  [read more]