As I have already said in one of my recent posts – I have been to a workshop given by an amazing singer – Sheila Jordan. The workshop took place in Torino in a very unexpected location. It reminded me of a German-Jewish friendship, but a bit backwards – a workshop of an American singer was given in a Vietnamese house… Ironic, isn’t it? Well, maybe it’s just my imagination, but I thought at the moment that it was fun.

Anyway, Sheila. She is just an amazing person. She is 85 or something, but she is so full of energy, I envy, I would love to be like her when I’m her age! First of all – she still sings, and that’s an achievement, because with time our body gets older, as in sports, we are no longer able to do things as clear, fast and strong as if we still were 16. She is 85, but she sings, and sings more than well! And the story of her life is so exciting, not always in a good way, but she turned to music every time something unpleasant happened to her. And she got to sing with Charlie Parker and guys, which is just unbelievable, because she’s white ant the times were different than now, and because Bird is a jazz legend. Who BTW told her one thing, that is considered to be the credo of every jazz musician and as to me, the most obvious thing in the world, which we usually forget about: “Just be yourself and don’t give up”

Some time ago I have been to an amazing concert. It was a performance of a duo called NUANCE, Elisabetta Antonini – voice and Marcella Carboni on, attention, harp! In addition to that they both had effects – loopers and other stuff. First of all apart from classical music a duo voice and harp is something unusual to me. Secondly – I never could have imagined jazz played on harp… I can say that it is not only possible, but also sounds very interesting.

An interesting thing happened to me a bit more than 2 weeks ago. I would even call it a quest, not a story… In short – due to my own stupidity I got closely acquainted with Italian medical system, and a bit with Latvian, and with assistance system in airports.

Death is an incredibly blurry thing. You think you know what it is and how to cope with it, because we all had bunnies that decided to live on a farm, or birds that flew away, or hamsters that ran away and even kittens that went to sleep. But in reality we just can’t imagine what it’s like and how to deal with it. Why am I writing all of this? Well, my father passed away less then 2 weeks ago and i honestly don’t know what to do and how to live without him.

Smart shrinks from the movies tell us that there are 5 stages of grief – denial and isolation, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance. They also say that these stages don’t always follow the order. In my case I have everything at the same time (except for acceptance, of course).  I am blaming him for dying, because he never discussed it with me (not that he could), leaving us, not thinking about us, not thinking about himself, his health and stuff. I am mad at the world, God (if he exists), weather, expensive airplane tickets, train company for going on strike while i’m trying to get to my family, God again for making my father die during Pesah, the cemetery for it’s working hours, the government for all the complications with the death certificate, the cemetery for not telling the rabbi about the funeral, the undertakers for disappearing, the rabbi for not turning off his phone, some person who also didn’t turn off his phone, the restaurant for not having anything to pack the food in, capitalism for making money on ones loss, yes, the world, everyone and everything. And myself for not giving him the haircut when he asked me to. But I am glad that I gave him a kiss goodbye when I took off to Italy. Because if i hadn’t, it would be another thing to blame myself for.

The thing that I don’t get is how can a person just disappear. One day he is there, then he’s just not. But all of his things, unfinished work, food, glasses, dirty socks, everything. And all is left is you standing in the middle of his room not knowing what to do next. I must say – sorting out documents helps getting your mind of the tragedy a bit, making yourself preoccupied with work. But that’s just a tiny period of time. Then when you are alone and having no one to distract you, it hits again. It hits you hard. So there’s that.

One thing I must say to everyone who is mourning – please, do it, don’t stop yourself. Don’t make some efforts because the society tells you so. You’ve got to mourn in your own way. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. If you don’t want to make the commemoration – then don’t, although I understood that it is also a good way of cheering up (if the right people are there and if they remember the good things and don’t try drowning you in tears), and after hours at the cemetery a hot meal brings you back to life. But if you do that, you don’t have to invite everyone, you can do whatever you want, you need to gather people that are close to you, what’s the point of having a bunch of strangers just being there, but not being there for you? And if you suddenly burst into tears in the middle of the street – who cares? That shouldn’t bother you. There is a thing you must cry about and keeping it inside only harms you. The more you wait – the harder it kicks you later.

In conclusion. My father was a wonderful man. He was the kind of person who gets to you after 1 minute of knowing him. He was the kind of person who cared about the world and actually did something about it. I wasn’t surprised when i realized how many people came to the funeral. He dedicated his life to children who were rejected by the world, he fought for them as if they were his own. He fought with the government to give them a home, a meal, a family. He cared. And he cared for us as well. And I love him and miss him.

Life is a wonderful thing and we all know that. Sometimes we are happy, sometimes we’re not, but that’s the way things are, we are not able to appreciate what we’ve got until it’s taken away from us even for a while. Or until we have something to compare it with. Like with a movie. I don’t know a single person who hadn’t said at least once – “I wish I were her” meaning that lady from whateveritsnameis movie, or “I wish my love story was as exciting as theirs” (That’s not about me though, mine is awesome and when my grandchildren will find out the way their grandparents met, they would definitely think that we’re awesome). Anyway, we all do love that amazing fantasy world we see in movies. But I guess nobody cared how this world was made. Well, I was lucky enough to see the insight. I have been to the most amazing place of all, it’s not fair to compare it to Modigliani exhibition or to some fancy villa, but wow, really – WOW! Now I can proudly say that I HAVE BEEN TO A MOVIE SET! And not a tiny one, but a real one, a big one, where things are happening right now, where some outstanding pieces of art are made, where some geniuses create that fantasy world some of us dream of every once in a while. I have been to Cinecitta.