About John Bohlinger
J Boh and a good friend
John Bohlinger is a Nashville musician working primarily in television. Best know as the band leader for NBC’s hit program “Nashville Star”, John also leads the band on the several other television programs on USA, GAC, CMT and PBS Networks. John originally moved to Nashville to pursue a song-writing career but soon found guitar playing a more stable means of feeding his family. John became the consummate Nashville sideman; he has accompanied over fifty major label artist throughout his tenure in Nashville including Bret Michaels of Poison, Sara Evans, Leann Rimes, Hank Williams, Jr, Kenny Rogers, The Beach Boys, Randy Owen of Alabama, Justin Hayward of The Moody Blues and many others. A versatile multi instrumentalist, John has recorded master sessions on electric and acoustic guitars, bass, pedal steel and mandolin.
Songwriter:
Hundreds of John’s musical compositions have made it to television, primarily as background music in Nashville Star as well as advertisements, major motion pictures and documentaries. John’s songs have also been recorded by major and independent label artists world wide.
Writer:
In 2001, John left the music business and worked toward a PhD in psychology. Unable to completely leave the arts, John began pitching a book idea entitled “A Guitar and A Pen” eventually enlisting his friend Robert Hicks as a partner. The book of short stories by Nashville songwriters was eventually published by Center Street in 2008.
John writes a monthly column entitled “Last Call” for Premier Guitar Magazine. “Last Call” is a somewhat comedic, instructional guide to earning a living as a musician. Although working and aspiring musician comprise the main demographic, music fans are drawn to his column as well.
John writes his Blog “Living with Losing your Child” in an attempt to help recover from the loss of his beloved son, August.
johnbohlinger
Hello John,
I just finished reading your post from 09/09/09. I wanted to let you know that I read it, crying and nodding as so much of it rang true for me. Some aspects were different of course but the universal themes hit strong. Your ‘chronic bereavement’ comment was brilliant. I hope you don’t mind if I steal it. I lost my beautiful four year old son Mackenzie (Mack) in a drowning accident in July 2006. I just wanted to write and tell you how moved I was. You have done August proud and I hope that somewhere, he is smiling as is Mack. My beautiful daughter Ruby is a shining light in my life and my husband and I are able to see the beauty that life can still hold through her eyes.
If it even remotely interests you, you can check out our website and see what we have chosen to do to create a legacy for our son and allow children to be helped in his name.
http://www.themackbelsonfoundation.org
Good luck and thank you,
Gail Mendelman
How great that you are channeling your energy into such a good cause. The Mack foundation will help kids who really need it. I was a dyslexic kid myself.. (hence the terrible spelling and whacked syntax at times). Had it not been for the help of my mother and a few key people in my life while growing up, I probably would be functionally illiterate today. Your foundation will make the world a better place.
Good for you.
Hi John,
You have been on a journey that I have just begun. Last week we lost our 8 year old Daughter Lauren to an anurism. One minute we were in the post office returning a package and the next we were in the hospital going thru the process I would call hell. Emergency room, tests, helicopter flight to Phoenix Childrens, Surgery, then removing life support. This all occurred in a span of the weekend Sept 18th and 19th. Lauren was truely the light of our family. Now she is gone and I miss her so much. We had tons of family and friends give support last week but they are all gone now. My wife has a few more weeks off. I came back to work today but my mind is not here. I walk in a haze. I replay that day over and over, her last words to me as I rubbed her head because she said she had a headache. I go from being almost normal to crying in the blink of an eye. We set up a little memorial site online at
http://www.legacy.com/guestbook/azcentral/guestbook.aspx?n=lauren-lukacs&pid=145528674
Sometimes I worry I will forget how she was and all her beautiful manerisms and just things she has done and said to me.
Hi Robert:
God bless you and your family. You’re going to be out of it for quite a while. Think about medication if it gets really bad, (perhaps something to help you sleep as well). None of this will ever make sense. Think about the good times you had with your sweet Lauren and be grateful for those.
Its so hard, it just doesnt seem real. I cant believe she is really gone. I mean this was a healthy kid. To just leave us suddenly in the span of a weekend. She had something called an AVM. Its basically tangled arteries in the brain. We never saw any signs. It wasnt like she was sick for some time period. Its just unreal. I cant get it out of my head.
I understand. My son’s been gone three years now and it’s just now sinking in. I literally lost over a year in a dream-like haze. God bless you. I pray for you and your family.
Dear John: I lost my only son Ty July 5, 2010. I feel like my life is falling apart. I have avoided the phone, friends, and to get through a day at my job is extremely difficult. I am 42 and had to have a hysterectomy last year. This pain is overwhelming. I don’t know how I am going to make it through this. My son was 23. I was also on my way home. I was going to call him that morning but i figured i would wait so he could sleep in after the 4th of July. I was wrong, I should of called. I feel like I just wanna pack up, quit my job, and disappear. Just don’t know what to do anymore. So lonely. Terri
GpX2iN http://djIjw3MnccVop6a5hFgql.com
Hello John,
I am coming up on what would be my son’s 21st birthday and it has been almost 6 years since he passed away. I was googling coping with the death and grief of your child… looking for anything that could help me over this next huge mountain, this living hell and the overwhelming pain that has come upon me once again, like an unexpected tidal wave…this will be his 6th birthday that has passed, that I have survived without him… the recent days have been very very dark, the pain as fresh as the moment he left this earth… I came across your stories and journals of August and your wording sooooo describes the words I can not get out on paper, but spin around like crashing waves in my mind, in my heart and in my soul….
Thank you for sharing your feelings,and thoughts and your beautiful son August, although it has been almost 6 years…I feel like I have fought like hell to move forward 10 steps to only slide back 100.
I too was a happy, positive, life is beautiful person, the “old me”, but now too, find myself doing the same as you described, gathering every ounce of my strength to get through whatever the next task may be, and looking forward to the time I can get away from the world…..
All I can say is ” there are no words” that can honestly describe how a parent feels that loses a child…. I see the world go on, and like August’s tattoo says…”life goes on”, but I honestly can’t seem to find the right route to get a life back on track, as hard as I try…
Thank you again for sharing……
I am truly sorry for your loss,
God Bless
Lisa Marie
Thank you for sharing your thoughts and feelings. I just lost my daughter Abigaille. Your description of your son, the depth of his feelings reminds me of my daughter. She was only 14. I love her.
God bless you and your family Kassi.
Dear John,
You don’t know me and I expect we will always be strangers. My name is Eileen Hogg and I live near the village of Saltaire in West Yorkshire, England. Last year – totally by chance – I came across your blog. I had been searching for something, anything, that could help me bear the unbearable, since the son I loved more than my own life committed suicide at the age of 22, on March 28th 2011. Your words helped me very much. I wanted to write last year, but couldn’t bring myself to do anything except to get through the days and to try and stay alive for the sake of the rest of my family. After 12 months, I feel I have taken a step. It may not be a step forward or a step in the right direction, but it’s a step somewhere.
These are some of the things I wanted to say to you: how much I admire your courage and dignity and the way in which you are carrying on your life without the son you loved; how your experiences struck a chord with my own, despite the fact that we live worlds apart, and how you inspired me to try and continue; to tell you that I’m glad I got to know your son through you and that the memory of the gentle soul he was lives on in me. Your lives together and your love for each other struck me as things of great beauty.
My son Joe would have been glad to know you – when he was alive, he lived for music. He played the drums, and he surrounded himself with sound, from Nick Cave to Rage to Rachmaninov. He was the wittiest man I knew, and the gentlest. If you are interested, you can catch a glimpse of him here, being silly with his friends when he was still a schoolboy (he’s in the striped jumper):
Someone once told me that a short poem can be as meaningful and as beautiful as an epic novel. I try to see my son’s life as a short poem. I know he was a good person and he lived a beautiful life, and I try to let this console me.
John, I wish you all the good things in the rest of the life you lead on this bewildering planet, and may the love of your son provide you with strength. Thank you for sharing his life.