This one goes out to kshay10 a loyal liker and reblogger…. and yes, I'm doing my best to avoid posting 3×07 wardrobe analysis and little moments… just wish I could skip it all together!

Music had always been a part of the Turner household. Timothy's mother had him learning the violin and piano before she died. She knew her husband's influence would lead him down the science path, but she wanted him to have a training in the arts as well. Timothy had stuck with it- in part due to the ease of earning the badge for the Christmas play. He would eventually leave the violin behind, and stuck with the piano. Once Shelagh had moved into the house, her singing kept him practicing. Little did he know back then how much his piano playing was needed.

Shelagh was lost and confused. She knew where she was- physically, but mentally and spiritually- she was confused. After the diagnosis, she wasn't sure where and what to do with her time. Even the nightgown only added to the confusion for it only added to the hurt and disappointment.

On her grey suit was a pin- not a new one- but one that was older and had special meaning. It had belonged to her mother. It had taken Mother Jesu Emmanuel quite a while to rediscover where she had hidden the pin. Shelagh had written her several weeks ago and had asked- if by chance- any of her possessions were still at Chichester. The older nun didn't think so, but just yesterday, the pin had arrived in the mail with a quick note of apology and wishing her the best in her new life. Shelagh had added it to her suit- for the reminder, the strength, and the courage to continue one day at a time.

Choir practice had become a thing of the past, or so Timothy thought. Once Angela arrived, he thought he had the "out" he so desperately wanted. But, it wasn't to be… for his mom announced that the choir had asked for her help with their Christmas special this year. They had survived on their own since Easter, but they were desperate for her voice on "O Holy Night" again this year. Shelagh had agreed, but asked her son for one simple thing- to accompany her on the instrument of his choice. Timothy was slightly flabbergasted, but finally agreed once his father gave him the "look".

Sister Julienne had always provided such wise counsel to Shelagh in the past. So, off she went to her office with the nightgown in hand. It was over tea that the conversation flowed and the suggestion she join the choir. So that's what Shelagh did- dragging her reluctant son along for the ride. Once they arrived, she found it to be in a miserable state. So, there went that idea- or so she thought.

Once Shelagh heard what had happened to Alec, she knew what she had to do. It was time for her to step out of her comfort zone and take over the choir. She knew she could recruit members- she heard plenty of ladies singing at the clinic that all she had to do was ask them to join. And she did- with somewhat mixed results.

So, it began… Timothy would accompany his mother on piano as she practiced. If Patrick was home, he took advantage of the time and read and played with Angela. It wasn't that he didn't want to hear his wife practice, he just craved the time to bond with his daughter. Most nights ended with him giving her her bath before tucking her into sleep. By then Shelagh was ready to quit practicing and would come check on them before they would do what needed to be done before the next day.

The announcement of Alec's death shook up everyone- including the residents of the Turner household. Patrick was in a state of quandary over what happened, and couldn't stop the constant questions in his head about what he should have done differently. Shelagh found herself being asked to lead the choir at his funeral. What choir? was her first thought, but she would push through.

Shelagh: Patrick. Would you look at this manuscript for me? Patrick:I haven't read music for years. Shelagh:You help Timothy with his piano. I've had to fiddle with the tenor part, because I'm not sure how many men will turn up.
Shelagh knew her husband was hurting…. she could read it in his body- constantly fiddling with the pen and there was a growing pile at his feet of papers he had crumbled up.

Patrick: Turn up when?Shelagh: At choir practice. Tonight. I've said we'll sing at Alec's funeral and I've absolutely no idea how I'm going to pull it off. Patrick: My love, I can't rewrite choral music any more than I can fly to the moon. Shelagh:You could do your best. I'm doing my best.

Almost as soon as she said "best" Shelagh could see the walls begin to break in her husband. It was as if was the magic word- one that would help him reveal all he was really feeling at that moment.

Patrick: If doing my best made any difference, the choir wouldn't be singing at a funeral. Shelagh:You are not to blame for Alec's death.

Quick to move, Shelagh got up from the table and moved to join her husband on the couch. She reached over and grabbed his hand- reassuring him with her touch much as he had done for her.

You did everything you could for him. But somewhere else a decision was made that no amount of prayer will change. And you have to accept that. Patrick: That's what I can't bear. Shelagh:I know how that feels. Patrick:I know you do.

Every once in awhile, Shelagh could her the former nun answer for her. It was to be expected, she supposed, but it was still a part of her. But, in her answer, she revealed that she knew what he was feeling. If she could have prayed away her infertility diagnosis, she would have been on her knees morning, noon and night. But, it was not the answer she wanted… and she had to accept it- just as she had to get Patrick to accept it wasn't his fault that Alec had died.

The time had come.. it was time for her and Timothy to perform their part. She was dressed in the suit that she had worn to Alec's funeral, and she was ready to do it. By the time Shelagh reached the last verse of the carol, there wasn't a dry eye. Angela, who was in her father's lap, looked up at him in concern when she had started to feel the tears from his face hit the top of her head. Patrick simply kissed her sweet face and whispered, "Listen, Angela, for you are hearing an angel singing".

Truly He taught us to love one another
His law is love and His gospel is peace
Chains shall He break for the slave is our brother
And in His name all oppression shall cease
Sweet hymns of joy in grateful chorus raise we,
Let all within us praise His holy name

It was a peaceful night that night- quiet and one of reflection on the words that Shelagh had sung so peacefully and beautifully. For each of the members of the audience the woman singing the song had reminded them of the words and they were now pondering them in her heart.

I know, I'm jumping to Christmas here… but it fit with the part…. weirdly enough, I will have the contrast of summer and winter in part ELEVEN. Thank you for all the reviews, likes and comments… it has kept this one going and may, just may, see it to the end of series 4.