A Farewell
A couple of friends talked me into going to a dance club one Saturday night. I was 15 years old, very shy, definitely did not know how to dance. Little did I know that night would have an everlasting effect and change the course of my life.
The first guy to ask me to dance was Peter. We danced a few songs, then talked the rest of the night.
Peter was visiting from Germany. He had a little black dictionary that he pulled out once in awhile to look up the translation of an English word. He had a cute accent and was probably as nervous as I was.
He was 20 years old, and had recently completed service in the German Air Force. His parents had come to America on a one-year contract through NATO, and had invited him to join them. He was attending Orange Coast College.
Peter was to become my very first boyfriend, my husband, and father of two incredible children.
When his father’s year contract was up they packed up and went back to Germany. The plan was for me to join him in Germany.
As soon as he left I got a job working as a maid at a hotel. I saved up enough money to buy a one-way ticket to England. It was the cheapest flight to that part of the world. The plan was for him to meet me in London and we would drive back to Germany together.
The ticket cost me $150. I had a total of $60 in savings, and with that I headed off to Europe. I was one month away from turning 17.
Knowing Peter has brought a great deal of adventure into my life. I cannot even imagine what life would have been like if I had stayed in America and lived a typical life.
Peter was a gifted consummate artist, seems like whatever he touched he mastered.
His childhood had not been an easy one.
His mother passed away when he was 3. He was sent to live with his Grandfather because his Father could not care for him.
His Grandfather was a preacher at a Steiner Village, which is a social therapy institution for residents with special needs.
He lived with his Grandfather for one year. Then one day his father shows up and he is remarried. Peter runs up to his father’s bride and says “Where have you been Mommy, I have missed you”.
Everyone in his family thought it was great that he believed she was his Mom, so they left it that way. He was never told that his mother had died.
I always suspected this had something to do with Peter’s drive.
His life was filled with his art. Whether it was music, or photography or painting, he lived each day true to his heart and his passion.
Neither of us are the same two people who met at a dance 45 years ago. I don’t think either of us knew who we were back then, and once we discovered who we were it turned out we had different paths to journey in this life.
I am so grateful for the time I had with Peter, the impact he had on my life, and our two beautiful children that help light up my life.
Radha Soami Peter, may you go in peace.
