The day after my father died, I passed one of my students in the hallway of the New England Conservatory. "My father died yesterday, "I said. "Suddenly tears welled up in her eyes. "But you didn't even know him," I said. "Oh yes I did," she replied. "We all knew him through you."
And so it is. Everyone who knows me knows my father. His wisdom, his stories, his humorous anecdotes are an intrinsic part of my life and the life of my students.
""Do you miss your father?" a friend asked many years after his death. "Never," I replied."Do you ever think about him?" "Every day."