The most intimate moment I had ever shared with my mum.

This song he chose for his funeral and I remember listening to it over and over to express my grief and try to find comfort and understanding of how he must have felt.

I still cannot bring myself to watch ‘Moulin Rouge’ …. It will always be OUR film and ‘Come What May’ will always be OUR song.

Sometimes I'd wait for her to ask me to put on the "ship song" as she referred to it, other times I'd offer it up right away just to see her face light up.

As long as we can remember, 
our Dad Noel would be humming a tune.

The song “When You Know” featured in the movie, Serendipity. It spoke to us because we were engaged and had bought a house together within five months of meeting.


I’d turn up the volume on my speakers and air-drum madly to the YouTube clip. It’d lift me every single time,

I don't think it was just about having her own money, it was more about a new sense of freedom and I wonder whether that's why she loved the lyrics so much - something about it being a new day?

We were at the Melon Bomb closing party at Pikes when the music finished and the lights came up, so we started to leave.

 But there was one more tune…

The lights went out and a hush descended on the room as Cecilia walked through the door to be greeted by our wonderful friends…

Dad chose this upbeat, stirring piece of music to be played as the exit music for his funeral.

It's comforting, to have him as an anchor still.

My enduring memory of that difficult time is being told she had just days to live in a room off the main social area where an Elvis impersonator was rocking out ’70s Christmas songs

Sorry, but music hasn’t directly helped with the grief following my wife’s death. That’s a good starter for ten…

When I want to connect with memories of him, it is through music…

I often tell myself to "be more Dad". To sing loudly, to dance like no one’s watching, to tell the worst jokes…

As the music plays through my AirPods, my feet pounding on the pavement, the tears are streaming down my face…

When I was little my Dad was a travelling salesman selling encyclopaedias, vacuum cleaners and even knitting machines…

The busker grabbed his guitar and started singing and playing along, and there we all were, busking with our little boy.

It is something I miss but the enduring power of classical music has been a source of joy throughout my life…