Lists/Playlists/ Life and its Alternative

I am in the ocean tumble of living, grieving, trying to pay bills and litigation.
Yup, life keeps going....thank goodness.
She is free and so am I.
It will take a little getting use to...

So what am I listening to?
Yes, it's a little manic depressive:
Mozart's Requiem in D
Somewhere Over the Rainbow IZ version with ukelele
(Both aforementioned)
Beethoven's 7th-2nd movement (the one they use in 'The King's Speech')
Erasure-Chains of Love  (love it!)
I can't quite believe I'm quoting an Erasure song but:
How can I explain when there are few words I can choose
How can I explain when the words are broken
We use to talk about the weather, making plans together, days would last forever...
Come to me, Cover me, Hold me
Together we'll break these chains of love
Don't give up...Don't give up...
Together we'll be free and break these chains of love....

Look, I know this is more about Gay pride, choice, and perhaps AIDS, but a good pop song can stretch over many interpretations. If I want to find meaning in it because of my Mom's passing, it's my story and I'm sticking to it. As much as Mozart's Requiem being about my mother's death. Same/same, but different. Erasure also reminds me of a time of my feckless youth: filled with nights of romp, clubs, art openings, big hair, dark red lipstick and lots of camera flash (mostly my camera flash). Parents were neither alive or dead, but calling you to see if you were still around and conscious.

There was my mother reaching beyond the grave when I found out that she had upgraded her casket to one of the high end ones. In doing so, she 'neglected' to pay the burial fee. So it was left for me to 'clean up' the place after she left. I have to laugh, though I was a bit miffed. We all did. Thanks for keeping it real Mom. My Mom knew it was the last time anyone was going to see her. She wanted to look great, and she did.

The funeral was a necessary closure, a welcomed one. These rituals are here for a reason, and I have found out that they can really help. People showed up, they were kind and gracious. I was glad to be in the south, where such behavior (despite any agenda or back story) is as natural as breathing. Perhaps it is a matter of dialect? The southern drawl instead of the clipped Yankee? The casket did look beautiful, as did the flowers (which I picked out and gladly paid for). There was a perfect place for her at the family plot. The cemetery is in the center of town, in the shadow of the great Tuscaloosa football 'cathedral'. She can cheer if she wants to. The game has changed a lot since her youth and 'Bear Bryant'. (I wouldn't necessarily say it's progress, just growth.) It was a lovely day, 70 degrees, sunny, a light breeze, as easy to take as my Mom was easy on the eyes.  Her last words to me were 'come back'. I did and I will return again to see the rest of my family. Godspeed Mom.