Lacrimosa

I'm not an overly religious guy. Some might even suggest that I'm more the heathen, a judgement I can understand if I apply a continuum or some such model as it applies to criteria, laws, or, figuratively speaking, scripture.

Still, I am listening to Mozart's requiem in D Minor this morning, not knowing a single word of the text while fully feeling the music.

I was raised with the bonnets, eggs, bunnies and duties of attendance for Easter. Today as well as most other Sundays and major church holidays. This is the only one that stuck.

It's a joy out of suffering thing. Understand and try to embrace this aspect of life as a form of resurrection, and well, friend, the rest is readily manageable. This includes dealing with other people, but to point this out begins to smell of preachy speechifying and, of course, its corollary, hypocrisy, for failure in this goal comes readily.

That incident with the brother-in-law from several months back? A wedge has been placed within the family, and whether one can believe it without full details (not forthcoming), a sledge brought down that finds the wife as the splinter. All suffer save for he who placed the steel; yet all had a hand on the handle.

Oh yes, I am aware the dickhead knows his own version of hell and that each of the others have brought some portion of this on themselves, even this seeming bystander. "Seeming" as one who first chose to stay above the fray and now proceeds as a cautious mediator,  surely a role that will require stitches.

But for the time being, I have moved on to Verdi's Requiem. The Foxwood trip will include a visit to a friend who has recently separated from his wife of twenty years.