The Bach Cello Suites remind me of mornings in our kitchen at home. My father did (and still does) play classical music through the house on weekend mornings when he's making breakfast, when my mother and brother are talking about an essay or a physics problem, when we congregate by the woodstove to attempt the crossword.
Listening to them now, on a morning by myself in Chittick, watching the snow outside the window and melt onto the green grass and soaking pavement, I miss my family. Sometimes there are pieces that are so reminiscent of moments that it's hard to bear, and I didn't realise it five minutes ago when I put it on, but this is definitely one of them.
Family, I miss you.