When you lose someone you love
23 February 2025
During our lifetime, it’s sad but inevitable to experience the loss of someone you love, either your family or friends or someone else you admired.
I’ve also lost some people whom I loved. The person might have passed away, but the impact of such a loss never leaves you. It’ll remain inside you for many years. We try to suppress the grief underneath the sea of our daily emotions and busy lifestyle, but it comes back in waves.
Recently the London flamenco circle was saddened by the tragic news of Pablo Domínguez. I still don’t know the appropriate words to describe it. I might not even be the right person to talk about it. But still, those who have known him through his musical talent and friendly personality, including myself, we all loved him. We feel pain, but we must not forget that the level of pain experienced by his closest friends and family must be incomparable.
When I said in his gig that I liked his guitar playing, he kindly made fun of me that I must have liked his instrument, not his performance. He was always warm and had a sense of humour. I still vividly remember, one day, he and his friend Ayoze spotted me and my husband on a bus, and they banged the window with a huge smile on their faces to catch our attention. As he was such a lovely person and a talented musician, I once asked him about the possibility of arranging a cajon and guitar class with him. In the end I didn’t manage to go ahead - but why? It’s one of the biggest regrets of mine now.
Even after he left London to settle in his homeland, I sort of assumed that he’d come back sometime and I could still see him in London. Actually he came back to London to perform from time to time, but I never imagined that he would suddenly disappear in this way. To me, he still remains a London-based flamenco artist, just like his other musician friends of the same generation.
At his tribute event held on 8th February, where many people came to honour him, I felt awkward talking about his ‘memory’. He was too young to be associated with such a tragedy. I even felt like Pablo might show up just like his friends did. He is still so ‘alive’. When his friend Adrian was playing a falseta that Pablo also used to play with his guitar, I was crying, not only feeling nostalgic myself, but also imagining the incredible pain of his closest friends and family.
I’m still in shock, but it’s nothing compared to what his closest friends and family must have gone through. As much as he was loved, he must have loved them too. As one of his admirers, I would like to respect their emotional bond, endearment, love and friendship. It’s sad but it’s also a part of our shared flamenco journey.
El Sueño de Pablo
