The Requiem was as wonderful as anything could be - as wonderful as Christmas even. Every year I get shivers when Mozart’s marvelous opening chords play. To hear it in its intended context, the Mass for the Dead, and to actually participate - it seems as though I am unbelievably blest. And it was so solemn - even the gospel was chanted. I felt the spirits of Tom and my father there, and felt enveloped in them and the music. My mother, on the other hand, really didn’t like this sort of thing – a long sitting in one place (unless it was a bridge table) and with such a crowd of people, so she probably remained in heaven doing whatever they do there - in her case, maybe bidding five hearts and eating those little mints and nuts they have at card parties. But Tom and my dad were definitely present. And having my little Rachael there singing was yet another gift. You can see her in the lowest row of the choir.
These pictures are courtesy of my friend Maria, and you can see her full album here.
2 days ago