Freud and my illustrious colleagues might have something to say on my choice of CD as I rushed out of my flat without any coffee this morning and raced to work. My love of Mozart is well known as is my love of requiems. At that moment in my hurry I chose to combine the two. It was only after that it dawned on me that it is my day for requiems. There was no conscious thought but maybe that is fate. For today marks five years since my mum died.
Given that day and with Mother's Day at the weekend I have felt less affected by it all this year. Perhaps it's because the hype in the shops seemed less in my face. Perhaps I'm too busy. Certainly I'm under pressure. But I have held my own today and on Sunday.
Now back at home Faure plays, my thoughts turn to hearing my past and I can reflect. Hence the post. In the background lingering memories of what came to pass and what didn't. I never solved the riddle of mum's unhappiness, anxiety and anger. I'm learning little pieces of the puzzle from Cedric. We had a long chat at dad's party. What I do know is I cannot erase the past. Only to live with it. And these years later I'm more at peace with mum than ever I thought I might be. We did make peace in the end.
I managed to catch up with dad at St Paul's yesterday. And wonderful to see Rebecca. Prior to meeting them I had a lovely lunch at Brindisa and a wander round the market. Not much was open but I saw the freshest seafood I've ever come across, there were no chaotic crowds and I was at my leisure. Other than a couple of bags of chillies I returned with little. I intend to go again during my week off.
And now it is back to my music. I will come back to speak again soon.
I Heard a Voice.
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