Mondays? They’re for Murdoch.

What have you, George?

Perhaps the most comforting question in our universe. After 13 enjoyable seasons we continue, through a major move, countless power outages, vacations, and even this pandemic, to make every Monday, Murdoch night. In a world full of uncertainties, he’s one of our constants.

I am not sure there is any sad situation that a Murdoch won’t help or cure, and there have been a few sad days in our house over the past year and two months.

So what’s the magic and why does it work so well for us?

A strong sense of place would be one. Julia’s morgue with the dripping tap, phonograph, and goldfish suggest a woman comfortable in her own situation. When she works at a mental hospital in later seasons, her space is of equal elegance with a moss colored, velvet fainting couch, a butterfly cage, the ever present gold fish and beautiful greenery.

The continuity of Julia’s space creates a feeling of oneness with Bea and I. We each define our own spaces in a similar way and enjoy adding and rearranging as needed.

A second reason would be Murdoch’s profound faith. Raised by Jesuit priests, he was taught a methodical, albeit sometimes rigid, approach to life and its intricacies. There is comfort in knowing how you are going to handle life’s everyday challenges because when the big ones come along you have a foundation from which to start the re-building.

Incidentally, I also knew a good Catholic boy who, out of respect for his mother, always had a picture of Jesus in a notable place wherever he, and later we, lived. It was one of the first things that attracted me to him for real. I really became rather enthralled with the Catholic religion thanks in part to Murdoch and to Patrick. There are now many aspects of the Catholic faith that I love and respect very much and practice daily.

Being an introvert often involves the love for fictional people and I know both Beatrice and I fall into this whimsical category. These people, for whom we develop a strong fondness, become our safe connection and their stories become part of our story, so that when life becomes overwhelming we can return to Julia’s rich spaces or Murdoch’s beautiful, empathic ways.

Finding a source of comfort is key during times of great loss. Being able to share that source with another is life giving. Yes, I have my knitting and hooking and incessant rearranging of furniture; Beatrice has her writing, drawing, and youtubing. But on Monday nights, Murdoch offers us a chance to recharge and renew together.

It’s lovely. That’s all I can say.

Or, as Julia might say, how enchanting.

Until next time,

Melissa