Question: “What could you let go of, for the sake of harmony?”
“You will keep in perfect peace those whose minds are steadfast, because they trust in you.”
— Isaiah 26:3 (NIV)
That question stops you in your tracks. It demands a kind of honesty that most of us try to avoid.
When I sit with it, my answer doesn’t come from career frustrations or everyday annoyances. It comes from a much deeper, quieter place: the space recently left behind by my father and my stepfather.
Judy and Charles Fulton
My stepdad, Charles, passed away in December 2022. He had dementia, and his death — though painful — was, in some ways, a release from that long, slow goodbye. Just a year later, in December 2023, my father, Marvin, died peacefully in his sleep from complications related to kidney failure. Losing both of them in such a short span has left a hole that’s hard to describe.
And so, for the sake of harmony — especially within myself — I’ve realized I need to let go of the what-ifs and if-onlys that grief tends to clutch with tight, unforgiving hands.
I need to let go of replaying the last few years, wondering if I should have called more, visited more, made more time. Life, marriage, and the pull of work here in Jacksonville created distance. And while I believe they understood that, the heart still plays its games of guilt and regret. But holding onto that doesn’t serve anyone. It doesn’t honor their memory, and it definitely robs me of peace. It clouds the real gift — the gratitude I have for the time we did share.
Carol and Marvin DeBolt
I also need to let go of the pain of watching them decline. Dementia is a cruel thief, and kidney failure is a slow erosion. Letting go, for me, means choosing to remember them in their strength:
My father, the passionate newspaperman.
My stepdad, who stood by my mom’s side for nearly 50 years.
I want their memory to bring peace and warmth, not just echoes of sorrow.
As a Christian, I believe they’re both at peace now — free from the weight of illness, fully alive in a way we can’t yet imagine. Letting go, for me, is also an act of faith. It’s trusting that they’re safe in God’s hands… and allowing myself to be free of the burden of second-guessing the past.
Letting go doesn’t mean forgetting. It just means choosing what to hold onto.
And for the sake of harmony, I choose to release the guilt and the grief — and hold onto the love.
Copyright © 2025 Doug DeBolt
