Today being Remembrance Sunday we had a Requiem for those fallen in the two world wars.
The Choir, plus stalwart organist plus a few extras, did a fantastic job on the Chants of the Requiem Mass, as did the Altar Servers with all their duties. On a musical level only hearing the Dies Irae, that melody so often quoted by composers, is a great thrill. Then I read the translation of the words. We're not messing around here. But I find the very stark warnings comforting because there's no hedging about, no platitudes, no euphemisms. No denial of death.
Conversation over coffee afterwards concentrated on what exactly was under the black material covering the catafalque (sp?). A few of us ( and not just children) suggested that we would have taken a peak had it not been for the fact that we were in Church and all.
Earlier on in the week we Music Teachers plus Choir bulked up the singing at a local Remembrance event. A poignant moment occurred when two very elderly veterans, one of whom seemed only just able to walk unaided went to plant their crosses. The MC pointed out a step which they negotiated fine, but when one went to place his cross, his glasses fell off and neither were able to pick them up, so the MC had to rush over to save the day and escort them back to their places. It was touch and go whether either would fall and in front of around 300 people. As Grandma once said to me, 'Don't get old.'