My daughter is 16. She’s been through a lot in her young life. She was diagnosed with ADHD and an anxiety disorder when she was seven years old. When she was eight, a woman she knew three houses down from ours, to whom she sold Girl Scout cookies as a Brownie, was brutally murdered by her husband and half brother. When she was nine her mother suffered a six month episode of clinical depression. At the act of 11, he mother was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer and six months later her favorite aunt was diagnosed with stage 3 Breast cancer. Both survived.
However, as a result of chemotherapy, my wife suffered irreparable brain damage (see my diary about that here). My daughter was forced to become a part-time caretaker of her own mother, because in many ways her own condition mirrored her mother’s, and thus she was one of the few people who could fully empathize with my wife’s struggles, frustration, anger and despair at her diminished mental capacity. And of course, my daughter had me as her father, a man whom all her life she has seen suffer from a rare autoimmune disorder.
During this time, one of the few constants in her life was her piano teacher (who also taught her how to play her cello). My daughter has always been a very creative person and a great lover of music. She knew that my wife had been a piano student for many year when she was a child. My wife has had possession of her family’s grand piano (just barely a grand by a foot or so) for as long as I have known her, and my daughter was very keen to learn to play at an early age. Finally at seven we found her a teacher, a man who earned his livelihood providing private lessons.
From the start, there was difficulty between the two of them. My daughter is very stubborn and finds it difficult to accept guidance from any authority figure (just ask her father, i.e., yours truly) and John (not his real name) was a traditional music teacher, though one with a quirky sense of humor. He and my daughter clashed a lot at times (primarily over her lack of practicing and her refusal to accept his “suggestions” on technique). I know for a fact he found her a difficult student, especially when her ADHD led to a lack of focus and distraction during her lesson times. Yet he never once suggested that she see another teacher. He stuck with her, and though she never reached the potential that he and her mother saw in her, in the end he came to appreciate his “difficult” student and even develop a jocular if edgy rapport with her.
As week after week turned into year after year the two of them developed a very close relationship, and he became a mentor for her and a friend. He learned to adjust to her manner and eccentricities as he taught her, and she learned to tone down her rambunctious and over-the-top behavior and pay attention to what he had to teach her. Eventually they developed a good working relationship based on mutual respect and their mutual love of music.
I have no doubt he was the best teacher she could have had. For one thing he never gave up on her no matter how frustrated he became with her at times over her obstinacy and rebellious nature.She not only learned the mechanics and technique of playing piano from him but a great deal of musical theory as well. Even more important she learned to formulate relationships with people who were different from her, and to listen to other people even when her instincts protested it was not what she wanted, because you can learn valuable lessons from anyone with information to impart if you are willing to accept that other people know things you don’t, and even if they may not see the world exactly as you do. Even, as was the case here, they are as stubborn and persistent in their manner as you.
And there were significant differences between the two of them. He was a devout Christian who was the organist for his church. She was most definitely an atheist (we were not a religious family and to this day she questions my recent decision to attend a Unitarian-Universalist Church after years of rejecting the religious upbringing of my youth as a Missouri Synod Lutheran). He loved to tell corny jokes and tease her, and she, being a somewhat serious and literal person did not always understand his jokes, nor appreciate them when they gently mocked her for her behavior. Yet as the years passed, she learned to joke back and give as good as she got, and perhaps not surprisingly that deepened their relationship. She learned she could disagree with him about many things, and even have passionate arguments with him, and yet at the end of the day still respect and admire him and be his friend. She learned that one didn’t have to share the same viewpoints about everything or the same outlook on life, and yet still love that person.
My daughter turned 16 this summer. Also this summer, John began to unexpectedly cancel appointments because of health problems. Then we learned he had stomach cancer and that an operation was required, to be followed by radiation and chemo treatments. After his surgery he returned to teaching his many students but it was clear that the surgery and the chemo and radiation had taken a toll. He lost a lot of weight and clearly looked more fatigued and frail. Yet it wasn’t until this December that it became clear that he had taken a turn for the worse again and would have to suspend lessons indefinitely. Knowing John, I’m sure this was hard for him to take, as he loves music and even more, he loves teaching music to young people. We both sent him get well cards, but in truth my daughter and I were quite anxious for him.
Last night I received a call from John’s wife. He had married late in life and they have only been together for about 2 years. She told me that John had appreciated the cards we sent. She also told me that he was in a local hospice facility. I was shocked, even though I suppose I knew deep down that this was a possibility ever since we learned of his cancer diagnosis this summer. I asked her if the fact that she said he was in a hospice meant what I thought it meant, and she simply said yes. She also said however, that John was still very much his old self, in good spirits, and she welcomed my suggestion of a visit by my daughter and I. I suggested this Saturday, to which she agreed. I then went to see my daughter to tell her the news. It was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do.
She was devastated. Having seen my wife and sister recover from cancer she had expected that John would as well. She cried on and off for the rest of the evening and late into the early morning. My wife and I took turns holding her, and trying to comfort her. However, there was little we could do. She was inconsolable. She has suffered a lot of blows in her life, overcome a lot of personal problems and made herself into a top student at school (She is in AP Biology, AP World History, AP English, Latin, Art -yes she’s a painter, too – and Calculus). She is outgoing and has many friends. In many ways she is mature beyond her years. However, John is the first person who is close to her who is going to die.
I didn’t know John’s personal situation well. I know he was self-employed and lived modestly. He drove an old junker car for many years until he married when he bought a used car of more recent vintage. I have no idea what sort of health care coverage he has. Hopefully it was a policy that provided the best possible care for him, but I don’t know that for a fact. Nor do I intend to ask him or his wife about it. Whatever care he received obviously could not stop the spread of his cancer. That is the way of things. Sometimes people don’t always get the care they deserve. Sometimes even the best of care cannot prevent a bad outcome.
So, as a family, my daughter, my wife and I will go visit him at the hospice this Saturday. We will bring a Sony electronic keyboard that I picked up at a church auction a year ago so that he can play music if he wishes or others can play for him. He will no doubt tell funny stories and crack jokes. He always does. I hope my daughter will see him as the person he is, not as a man dying but as a man who was is her friend and guide. Hopefully she will always remember him for what he meant to her, and what I suspect she meant to him. I imagine we will attend the funeral when that time comes, though at the moment I don’t want to think too much of that day. I hope the visit will go well, but one never knows. My daughter is highly emotional. Whatever comes will come.
“It’s so unfair,” my daughter kept repeating over and over last night. “He wasn’t supposed to die. He just got married.” What can a father say to that? He was a good man, a teacher and more than a friend to her. It is unfair, but as his wife told me last night, “It is what it is.” Somehow, someway my daughter will get through this loss, though I know she will grieve terribly. I hope she learns to appreciate life more. I also hope she learns that a good life can come in many forms. John has led a good life. He helped others doing what he loved best. He was not a rich man in terms of money, but he was rich in the things that count: compassion for others, love of life, and a life spent sharing his gift for music with others. I know of so many people who have more material possessions than he, more money, but I doubt that many of those people made half the difference in the world around them that he did.
He is my daughter’s piano teacher and always will be. This is the only way I know how to honor his life. Certainly he deserves as much honor as anyone I know for what he accomplished in the all too brief time he was given to spend on this earth. I know I am honored to have known him, and my daughter was lucky to have known him, both as her teacher and as her friend.
