Let Go of the Bad, Then Let Go of the Good
I think of hard moments, rather than bad, as when one night on tour, staying with a kindly older couple who loved Stephen and his music, for some reason Stephen got upset, cuffed my head, said “I could kill you,” then headed out the door. Going to bed, “I ‘gave’ him to the angels” as I knew him to be a sensitive and emotional man. By morning he returned from a motel having resolved what was bothering him.
For the good we enjoyed, I recall his reuniting with three accomplished and beautiful young-adult daughters in San Diego, when for our years together and several after his passing, I went on family visits to California. Then at the level of the small parts of life, at the supermarket, he liked us to push the shopping cart together so that our hands touched.
Over the spectrum of time, there were both hard and good experiences. After he’d been diagnosed as dying, on January 3, 1996 while being admitted to the Veterans Hospital, he’d turned to me, asking if I’d marry him (we were engaged) because it had to be a family member making a decision, if necessary, during surgery. So we married and within two hours were back at the hospital. There was grace in our journey. During our financial efforts for his medical recovery, I raised $30,000 selling his cassettes, but Stephen passed over on October 7, 1996.
In the following three months, my moods swung from sad to grateful with often repeated words that I later saw as being a prayer of letting go. It was at this point that I met David, who told me Meher Baba* was standing behind me, an indication that my future would be with Him. With this unexpected direction offered to me, I spent nine months going through and letting go of Stephen’s things (attached memories would flare), but I also kept strengthening in focus on a new and as yet unexplained purpose for my life.
In 2001, as an ordained Alliance of Divine Love minister, I led a service at Seraphim Center*, celebrating the fifth anniversary of Stephen’s passing, sharing for the last time his music and comments on our life. The sanctuary was crowded, and as I spoke, I saw many wiping tears. But my voice was clear, my gaze steady, and my talk succinct and sincere as I said the two gifts that Stephen gave me were his coming into my life and his leaving—that was what had happened and that was God.*
Soon, routinely reviewing personal information at the Social Security Office, I learned with astonishment that the length of our marriage—by a margin of three days—qualified me, as Stephen’s widow, to be a recipient of his benefit that would begin at age sixty (or in a year-and-a-half). When in 2003, the payments having begun and guided by David, who told me it was time to return to the home of Meher Baba in India where I had previously briefly visited, with Stephen’s monthly support I moved to Meherabad to continue spiritual training and service.
My realization is, “Letting go means respecting that the past had its reasons, allowing memories to fade to lighter colors, and strengthening acceptance and the pursuit of life’s next purpose.”
*Healer and Reader
*Singer, songwriter, guitarist, my second husband
*Avatar of the Age
* An interfaith, multi-denominational spiritual community
*Adapted from
A Flower for God