Goodbyes Are Never Easy (For Vida Wolk)

In less than one week I will be going through a change in my life; one mentor disappearing into the abyss, while another mentor arrives to take his place, but as that old butchered cliché goes, “(fill in the blank) _____________ is irreplaceable.”

For Vida Wolk, that much I can agree with. I remember the first time I met my mentor Vida Wolk almost a year ago, when my other mentor, Bard Zimmerman was moving onward to the land of apples and honey, liturgical music and ash can bomb insurance and introduced me to Vida.

I wasn’t totally sure of Vida at first, mostly since I was afraid that I would like him too much and that he’d become a good guide in my life and how much I would hate to see him move on when the year was up and Vida would take the next step in his long and fruitful journey.

From the get-go, I knew that Vida was a hip man; after all he knew what throat-singing was and that’s a big plus in my eyes. He was also pretty sensitive to my needs, which for me, these last 12 months has been a truly great transformation, a big metamorphosis and is still happening, as far as I’m concerned.

For those of you who read my blog know what I am referring to, as I almost every movement or action I go thorough, is reported back to you, the reader in some shape, way and form.

As even some more of you might know and understand, I don’t usually share or speak of my most inner deep dark secrets or extremely close encounters I engage in with people I allow within my tight inner circle; whether they stay within for a year or 21 years, that is of course unless they’ve wronged me somehow or have done something extraordinarily well, to which I would praise them highly!

In the year’s time I’ve spent with Vida; rather the time he’s spent with me, I can honestly say he is a kind, hip and funny guy with a sensitive edge, who has a keen sense of spirit that will take him places far better and great than he ever expected to go.

Perhaps he already knows that.

Vida opened me up to different approaches and takes within my own life, that for until whatever circumstances it seemed to fall under, I seemed to fail to see it. He pointed out several alternatives to the basic simplistic approach I was always used to doing or being.

Vida also knew how to corral my intense personality and made a diligent effort to formulate it into a much softer image, without curtailing my other barbed-wire characteristics I tend to display when a stranger or perhaps friend has dared to cross my persona for the umpteenth time.

I’ll miss the brightness of his eyes when he encouraged me; the sneer of his jovial and sometimes sarcastic laughter whenever I’d rattle off some brilliant remark, something he read in my printed copies of my blog or after telling him one of my endless amout of mishegas stories and the determination in his soul when he gently pushed me in the correct direction.

I’m also going to miss voice-blogging with Vida, an invention of his own making; a tool that worked well between us in-between the periods of time when we would not see each other for days or weeks.

I am crying as I write this and believe me, dear friends, I don’t write too many tear-jerking blogs.

Goodbyes are never easy during transitions.

Next week is our last full session together and then it’s off into different directions we fly into. Thanks to Vida I’m a better person and for this I am so grateful.

I’m going to miss Vida so much.