12/31/2025
I never met my father, yet his legacy lives on. He founded the Beverly Hills Conservatory of Music and owned an insurance company that covered some of the world’s most renowned hotels and airlines. A Purple Heart recipient, he was also one of the few Americans personally honored by Queen Elizabeth for his bravery in combat. Best friends with a U.S. President and close to countless legendary celebrities, like Frank Sinatra, Bob Hope, and Natalie Wood, his parties drew the world’s most notable names—articles still celebrate the gatherings today.
His life unfolded publicly, filled with recognition, honors, and power. Mine began privately, without his acknowledgment. My mother was threatened when she became pregnant and went into hiding. I was born with her alone and injured, under conditions that taught me about survival before anything else.
Years later, Ifa guided me to make peace with his family. I had never met them, yet I carried assumptions shaped by pain and believed they had a hand in his disappearance from my life. His wife—once the most well-known child actor of her time—was also deeply wounded by betrayal. She gave up her career to devote herself to their marriage and family. I understand that kind of devotion because it lives in me as well. I always wanted loyalty, soul merging, and the deepest intimacy with only one person for a lifetime. Through my father’s absence, I learned to practice devotion to another as repair—choosing harmony while remaining dedicated to my own ongoing healing.
When I allowed myself to fully feel her pain, something shifted. I apologized for what my parents caused, not to erase the past, but to honor it. I brought gifts that reflected her passions to her grave in Hollywood, near Bette Davis and among so many remembered lives. It was an acknowledgment that peace sometimes comes from tending to another’s grief, even when your own remains. This experience taught me that choosing peace is possible without denying truth but accepting its quiet integration.
I am without family, but my odu states that I will inherit my father’s successes, and his legacy will endure through my life.
