Wednesday, April 11, 2012


 Dear Whitney Houston,

I like so many others owe you an apology. I am sorry...

My words of condemnation came from frustration. I was so upset that you did not remain here with us...I was so distraught that you could not pull it together. You and your addiction reminded me of great men and women who have died too soon.

Ultimately, my words in commentary failed to acknowledge the power of addiction. To validate addiction without lending excuse. Knowing that I have genes within my DNA that are attracted to 'getting hooked' I should have been more compassionate - but I wasn't. I apologize...

It was not that I did not look in the mirror...I do that daily with hopes that I see my conflicted shadow.

When the shadow presents itself we are challenged to adapt...to change. And, throughout this life I have lived and struggled to avoid at times I have not always been fair. My 'shakedown' of you was not on the up and up. I was not fair. I refused to be slapped by your demise. I refused to extend love to you because of my once upon a time self-hatred. So, I lashed out because you and I are one. We all are one. We are the ones in need of a beautiful reminder that we are weak human beings trying to get it right.

Sadly, my apology is late coming.

You hit me...you stumped me. The day was the same day we: your fans, family, and confidants allowed you to succumb to this world. On that awful day I was driving a U-Haul truck to Houston, Texas. HOUSTON...the very moment I heard the news over the NPR I looked up and I saw what carries us fortunate souls to our resting place. 
I saw a black hearse. It was on my left...passing. It was traveling. It was in the wind. Gone.

You were gone - and I and others are still here wanting what you and Teddy Pendergrass so beautifully lifted in voice.

Hold Me...yes that's it, Hold Me!

Whitney, on Good Friday 2012 while driving to my home, North Carolina - and while listening intently to your very first gift to world...your first album I was moved. I was there sailing up the highway reminded that you wanted to be Held.

Thanks, Whitney! Thanks! 

Muata Nowe

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