The kids and Grandkids came up. We visited. We gave the kidlets gifts. We talked. It was warm.
So, why did Handel's Messiah set me off like a waterfall? <laughter> Because the first time we listened to it together, the whole thing, it was the "Do your own Messiah" broadcast on PBS from ... Boston? and the eldest was barely four months old and we were staying in a very inexpensive motel because my Mom didn't have a guest bedroom and the living room was not comfortable for two adults and an occasionally hungry at 2am baby. She slept and we watched and listened to a very lovely rendition of the Messiah with an entire audience of something like 600 people joining in on the chorale portions. It was amazing.
So, natually, listening to the one on the internet, I cried. I wept. I mourned the loss of someone who would have loved it as much as I did. I wanted him here one more time. And, stupidly, I know that if he's still out there, if the afterlife we envision is real, he heard it, he shared it, he knew how sorely I missed him at that moment and how much he still means to me.
Nine months and counting.
I will make it, I will get on with my life and I will, finally, manage to finish, edit and publish the book he was convinced I should do exactly that with. His support will be with me through it all, even if he's not physically here any more.
It's cold today.