I cannot believe that you are gone. I feel so much pain, emptiness and sadness. I even couldn’t say goodbye to you.
I remember your smile, your kindness, your harmony and your great lessons. You were an amazing teacher, a great musician, a real artist, a guide, a friend. You revealed to me and to so many others all the secrets of the recorder and you showed us a fantastic world of music, elegance and good taste. Your lessons were poetic, wonderful and inspiring. They were lessons about music as well as lessons about life.
What is it about death that is so horrible? Death is loneliness, death is emptiness. Death is coldness and solitude. Unamuno said: “Porque los hombres vivimos juntos, pero cada uno se muere solo y la muerte es la suprema soledad.” (La agonía del cristianismo). [“Because men live together, but each of us dies alone and death is the supreme solitude.”, The Agony of Christianity]. In death, the art and music of life are gone. I close my eyes and imagine you silent, cold and alone.
What is left, for us, after your death, Dorothea? Our memories, the beautiful moments each of us had with you, the music you taught us, the love you gave us, the sparkling positive attitude that you always irradiated and the memory of your beautiful smile, your wise words, your humanity and your tenderness. But it’s not enough. I want to hear your voice. I want to hug you and know that you are happy and well.
In 2 weeks you would have celebrated your 63th birthday. It is so painful for me to know that I will not be able to write you, call you or see you anymore. You gave me so much and I can’t accept that you are gone. I can’t listen to beautiful recorder music without crying. I will always keep you in my heart. I love you and I miss you.
Antonia Tejeda Barros, Madrid, November 15, 2012.