My friend, Bohdan: the man who taught me music

This is a brief clip of my beloved violin teacher Bohdan Siedlecki performing at an event in Port Coquitlam. Below is a comment I left  on Bohdan's Facebook page when I read the message from his sister  that he had passed. I did get to  see him one last time last October, nearly a year ago, and I am so glad the last thing I did  was give him a big hug and tell him I loved him!

I was so sad to hear that our dear friend Bohdan has passed. I met him in 1994 when I had a huge project in mind: I wanted to learn to play the violin at age 40. I had tried to learn the instrument as a child, and it completely defeated me, so I needed to do this for myself (and had a lot of doubt that I would be able to do it!) From the very first lesson, he was so patient with me, with such a good sense of humour and such warmth that he immediately put me at ease. I was able to relax and really enjoy music lessons for the first time. We were student and teacher for seven years, and he helped me reach my goal of being able to play proficiently enough to allow other people to hear it! I enjoyed adding to the music program at my church, and was able to perform at Eagle Ridge Hospital with a choral group. Bohdan also became a kind of spiritual mentor for me during a very difficult time in my life.  Last October I was thinking about him and looked on his Facebook page, then reached out to him. We got together at his place and talked over old times, and it was wonderful to see him again, though of course we had both changed a lot (I’m 71 now and too arthritic to play anymore, but I still have my violin!). I had no idea that this would be the last time I would see him, but I am so  glad that I was able to give him a big hug. I found this photo from my first recital, and you can see how happy we both were!

Of course, there is much more to the story than that. Last October I reached out to him  via Facebook, and we got together for what would  turn out to be the last time. We weren't  the same people, of course - both of us had a lot more wear on us, physically and every other way. But we had also come to realize what really matters in life. Reflecting on that visit, I realize now that he wasn't well at all, but as usual was making light of it and asking after my wellbeing. 

To me, the hardest part of getting old is losing friends. People start to die, and since I was the youngest in my family by 13 years, I have naturally gravitated towards people older than me. With each passing year, there is another loss - cancer, stroke, heart attack, even suicide. It's hard to be the one left standing, which is the penalty for being the youngest, I guess. The bittersweet nature of life is not lost on me now, with my grandchildren old enough to vote (and drink, and do all those other grownup things). But they too will move through the life cycle, with all the richness it can bring, along with the inevitable ache of loss.