When Spurs Fan went to see Billy Bragg this week, we three headed across town to watch a school musical. I never need persuaded to see Joseph and his Amazing Technicoloured Dreamcoat. I love it. (No, I have no credibility. Think of it as an endearing foible.)
It was a wonderful performance. Young women with talent, poise and confidence, belting it out. They had great fun, and the production had some fantastic touches. We were late home, singing all the way. Girl2 felt a bit queasy- the combination of a late night and eating her body weight in sweets. (A gift from Sweet Shop Cousin, which meant that they all had to be consumed right now, then and there. According to Girl 2, rationing would be rude.)
I can’t hear Joseph songs without thinking of a chorus of cousins gathered round a record player on a Sunday afternoon, singing along to the original LP. Harmonies and hilarity. Our history.
It’s a small place, so there’ll always be someone we know to meet unexpectedly. As well as a former colleague, I met an aunt of cousins. I don’t know her well, but she’s part of us. She enjoyed telling the tale of how she, along with my uncle and aunt, had gone out for a meal and happened across the Very Secret Hush Hush First Date of Herself and Handsome future Husband. Of course, all the beans were spilled after that. No secrets for long in our connection.
The next morning I got a phone call asking me to do something scary, but valuable. Exactly the sort of something that Herself kept badgering me to do. So, when I stopped laughing, I had to say yes.
A while later the memorial cards arrived. I had ordered them, proofed them, expected them, but am still freaked out by the box of them. They are here. She is not.
I put the iPod on shuffle. Pie Jesu came on.
OK, OK, I get the message. I’m not particularly religious,or spiritual, or in touch with something vague, but I prefer to think of all the connections as Herself waving ‘Hello’ at me, rather than random, natural, unconnected universe events.