Solo for Sol

My Monday mornings start the same way as they do in any Canadian household: I feed my noisy family, pack lunches, and push my “always late for school and resisting son” out the door. Finally, I sit down for some quiet time to drink my morning coffee and to hug my beloved doggy. Then, at 9:30, I hop into my car and drive over to teach my first student of the day. His name is Sol and he is 90.

He eagerly awaits for me to arrive, always greeting me with enthusiasm and a warm smile. Sol is always in a good mood, clean shaven and dressed in his finest clothes.

Sol started playing the violin half a year ago after his son Marty passed away very suddenly and unexpectedly. I have to say that Marty had began playing the violin when he was a young teenager. He was not a professional musician, but playing the violin was his lifelong passion and hobby. Marty was so passionate and played violin in an orchestra for many years. He performed at parties, weddings, and countless other events...

After Marty's departure his violin was closed in its case with no chance to elicit any sound from loving hands. But Sol was determined to learn to play his son’s violin. As an instrument is the soul of a musician, the thin and sturdy strings deeply connected him to his son.

It was very difficult for me to open the case and to see all of the little things that we, violinists, keep there for years: rosin, extra strings, a wind-tuner, and something else wrapped with care in a cloth. In all of that was Marty, and inside the sounds of his violin.

And from now on every Monday the violin sings again! Not everything always works out - different things happen on different days, but sometimes Sol really surprises me tremendously when he plays!

And some days I play and he sings along, songs from his childhood, airs from operas and operettas. He tells me stories of old Toronto, and his incredible Polish mom. Then we fly away to a place many years ago, where it smells of ginger, cinnamon and gefilte-fish and the bright lights of the Ed Mirvish store illuminate the streets.

And let it be that way. Take care, Sol! See you on Monday!