Apr 22, 2007 23:17
Today my bass teacher passed away. Fred Jerome Willrich was more than my bass teacher, he was my brother, my best friend, my shoulder to lean on, and my inspiration. He turned 25 on March 4th, and lived all 25 years so selflessly. He helped so many people, even if he didn't realize it. It was everyone's best friend when they needed one.
I found out today around 4:30 and that he had passed away in the early hours of the morning or late last night. He had played a concert that night, performing on his viola, one of his favorite things in life, then went home and was cooking dinner, another one of his favorite things in life, and sat down in his easy chair. His room mate found him around 2:30 am and went to wake him up to tell him to go to sleep, when Fred didn't respond, Nick, his room mate, called EMS. After trying to fruitlessly trying to revive him, Fred was declared dead. He had been ailed by an upper respiratory infection for about 2 weeks, but beyond that no one knows how he died.
I still can't even begin to fathom why it was Fred that had to go. He did no wrong in his life. He was always helping. He even felt guilty for having to charge money to give me bass lessons. I know for a fact that Fred loved me very much and I loved him just as much. Even though I'm not a religious person, but Fred was. He was a devout baptist. He loved God, life, his friends and his family more than anything. I know that he is with his God now.
Fred was such a blessing to everyone who's life he entered. It's not fair that we already have to say goodbye, but I know he lives on in my heart and so many others. I know this for a fact because over 100 people showed up in the music building at Texas State where he went to school and we all shared stories and sang songs for him and celebrated Fred's life.
Fred, I love you so much, and I know you're in a good place now, but I want you to know we all miss you.
Rest in Peace Fred Jerome Willrich, the most amazing person I've ever known.
There's so much more I want to say right now, but it seems so unreal. I feel like tomorrow I'm going to go to orchestra and he'll be there and I'll hear his bright, infectious laugh before I even enter the room.