Roz Sohnen filmmaker, writer, teacher
The newsletter: February 2024 7th Edition
Photo by Susan Millar/ Upsplash
My dear friend, MV, passed away and she was buried Saturday. I had known her for over half my lifetime. She was a kind, intelligent woman of many talents and I was so fortunate to have her in my life for so many years. I spoke to her every Saturday for years.
Her mother was an American and her father was Greek. MV was born in Drama, Greece and emigrated to the US with her parents when she was 8 years old. She did not speak a word of English and was not permitted to take her doll with her. MV was an only child. She never married or had any children. She was always there, until she wasn’t.
After both of her parents passed, she moved back into her parent’s home and lived there until the end. She died sometime after the last Saturday I
spoke to her. She lived alone and had difficulty walking without pain. It was only when neighbors noticed her mail piling up that they called the police to do a well check on her to make sure she was alright. When I called her on Saturday and she didn’t answer and I called again later and still got her voicemail I was concerned. Something told me that this time was different.
When the police entered the house they found her “unresponsive”. No sign of foul play, no drugs, no alcohol. How many days had she been like that before she was found? The coroner attributed her death to a heart attack. She had many ailments, but heart problems were not among them.
I have spent the last week thinking deeply about her and how the events and people in our lives shape us. Although our lives were very different we shared an unbreakable bond that cemented our friendship through all the years we knew each other. She grew up in the suburbs and I was in the city. I had three siblings. She had none. My parents divorced when I was eight, and her parents remained married until the end. We both went to college and graduate school. We both lost friends during the AIDS epidemic. I miss hearing her voice and her laugh. She was eccentric in many ways and stubborn too, but was always generous with praise and encouragement to anyone choosing to live a creative, non conforming life.
Whenever I feel blocked with writing I give myself a prompt: “It could have been…” or What if?” And it seems to be a good point of departure for writing. What if I hadn’t met her? How would my life be different? What if she married and had children? What if she didn’t live alone?
How could things have been different and what would that change? She taught me how to drive and we used to go to Central Park after midnight so that I could practice my turns. She would get out of the driver’s seat and switch places with me and I would drive. And she was the subject of my first film. My assignment was to make a silent film, demonstrating a “how
to”. She demonstrated how to make candles and then treated herself to a bath by candlelight.
When we lose someone we love, especially if it is sudden and unexpected, we feel angry at the injustice. I think about the wonderful French film by director Claude Chabrol called This Man Must Die. It is a powerful story about what happens when a child is killed by a hit and run driver and the father of the slain boy attempts to find the driver who murdered his son and what happens to the father in the process.
People we choose to be part of our lives are important. Although I am grieving for my friend, I am hoping to inspire you to think about the people you have chosen to be part of your life and how they change your life and who you are. MV taught me many things. We travelled together and had many adventures. She also brought new friends into my life. We attended concerts together and shared a similar taste in music. She didn’t share my preferences in literature or film but would often consider them. But, we were “more” in each other’s presence. Friendship is a kind of love, part chemical, part intangible and amorphous. A special light has gone out.
Please share your stories, or stories about how things could have been without the special people in your life.