Change can be exciting. Change can be scary. Change can bring about improvements. Change can also bring about sorrow.
Globally speaking, 2025 was a total shitshow: a year of chaos, upheaval and war. So I shall say no more about it in this round-up. None of us need any reminding after all. Instead, I will keep the focus on the goings-on here in and around Mazeroux, where change was a defining theme. Since the last entry, we have gained and we have lost.
January:
The year began in typical fashion: it was wet, grey and windy and we were frazzled having massively overdone it during the end-of-year break. Gerald and Jess were with us for a few more days and then they left us to face the soul-destroying return to normality and work.
The 5th saw Lucien turn 80. He didn’t do anything special for it, but we gave him a voucher for the Escapade des Sens restaurant in Thiviers to mark the occasion. He still neither looks nor acts his age. Mum’s birthday was the following day and we celebrated it with a meal at theirs at the weekend.
Our first big change of the year occurred on the 8th and concerned Mazerock. Matt’s choirmaster, Christophe met a local woman who plays drums and was dying to get back into music, having been on an enforced hiatus for medical reasons. Her name is Isabelle, she lives in St Saud and as we were to learn, she is a most talented musician.
She attended our first rehearsal of the year where we played her some songs, showed her our setlist, and she told us about her musical background. Although we were looking to recruit her, it somehow felt like we were the ones auditioning. She knew all our songs but hadn’t ever played them before. Within a matter of weeks however, she had learnt the lot and just kept on improving from practise to practise. She is also a lovely lady and we took and instant liking to her.
On the 9th, we had a meeting with the architect and the team of labourers she’d put together. They inspected the site, had the project explained to them and then went away to prepare quotes for us. When we received them, most were as the architect had expected, but the mason was close 50% more, so we looked around for an alternative. With the benefit of hindsight, we should probably have just sucked it up and gone with the first company, but I am getting ahead of myself.
February
The 9th of February saw our twin terrors reach the impressive age of fifteen. They both seemed to be in great shape, but we’d noticed that Sméagol was losing weight. In all other respects, he was his usual Smeagly self, with the appetite of at least two cats, so we weren’t too worried.
On the 18th, I joined Mum and Dad for a trip back to Blighty to see Dave and co. in Market Harborough. We took the ferry and had a smooth journey, arriving around lunchtime. We had a few enjoyable days there, including a day trip to Olney where we took Nan out for lunch as an early birthday treat. Also in attendance were Tracey and Frank and Sue. The service was poor and the food so-so but it was good to see everyone.
For my birthday, we were invited to Manu & Mathilde’s for dinner. The following evening we kept the celebrations going with a meal at Mum & Dad’s, who were entertaining their friends Ann Leman, her daughter Danni and Vicki Fairweather. It was a boozy but enjoyable night, and nice to see the ladies again after so many years.
March
March surprised us by starting off mild and sunny. It was to stay that way for most of the month, interspersed with the odd duff patch. On the 14th, we let the labourers know that their quotes had been accepted and a provisional start date of the 22nd of April was pencilled in.
Over the course of the month, Smoo continued to lose weight, becoming skinnier than Louis even, and we began to fear that it might be serious after all. Despite his weight loss, he was still behaving normally which offered us some reassurance. Sadly, this too was soon to change.
Jan arrived on the 25th for a final visit of pre-renovation Port 80. We got in quite a bit of socialising and took advantage of the sun on the days it appeared. This it did with gusto at the end of the month, just in time for our planned trip to St Emilion where Jan treated us to lunch. As usual, we stopped at our favourite vineyard en route home to stock up on wine. In line with the theme of change, this tradition has now ended: the owners have retired and are no longer producing wine. They’ve been selling off their remaining stock and once that’s gone, there will be no more Clos Maisières – the wine that played a small but important role in our decision to stay in France all those years ago.
April
Smoo’s health dramatically worsened over the first weekend and he barely ate. He became weak and confused and was clearly in pain. I tried to get to in the vets but they had no appointments until the following Monday.
We spent that weekend devoted to the Smoo, and I had him constantly on my lap or beside me on the bed at night. It was heart-breaking to see how frail he was. That Sunday he ate literally nothing and I was sure he wouldn’t survive the night.
He actually seemed a little more with it the next day and it lifted my spirits no end when he managed a small breakfast. It was a beautiful, warm and sunny spring day and we tried to ensure he got to enjoy it as best he could.
His appointment was late that afternoon. We left Jan at the house and took him to Thiviers. There we learned the worst: he had tumours everywhere – stomach, spleen, liver and lungs. The vet said we could take him back with us and put him in palliative care, but he was unlikely to last long and his quality of life was poor. And so, faced with the impossible choice, we agreed it was best to put him to sleep. That experience was the single hardest and darkest I have known, and the weeks that followed were bleak. The world is now forever more a smaller, sadder and decidedly less Smeagly place. We love you forever, my sweet Sméagol.
The next day was the last of Jan’s trip and we took her back to the train station, calling in to see the architect and the kitchen-maker en route so we could pick out our cabinets. A few days later, we began a major clear out in readiness for the works to begin. We pushed the main guest bedroom bed up against the wall and then crammed the contents of the back bedroom in there too. The garage and loft required numerous trips to the déchetterie, and the log shed took several tedious hours of work but we finally got everything cleared out in time.
The weekend before the works started, Paul celebrated his 60th birthday. This took place at the Salle des Fêtes in St Pardoux and like Fabienne’s, was a meal followed by karaoke. There, the parents got to meet Isabelle for the first time, who, to Mum’s delight, announced that she had 2 kittens she was trying to rehouse. A male and female, both ginger, it only took a glimpse at one photo to win them over. They agreed to take them as soon as they had moved into the barn later that summer. Not feeling all that sociable, I conspired with Mum and Dad to leave as soon as we deemed polite, leaving Matt to steal the show as usual.
The long-planned and dreaded building works began on the 22nd and it was all guns blazing from day one– jackhammers, buzzsaws, dust and chaos as the masons started on the interior demolitions and new door and window openings.
Losing the garage meant Louis was without a catflap, but to my surprise, he took it very well and soon adopted the indoor cat lifestyle. It would take him a few weeks before he worked up the courage to go out at all, but as the weather gradually improved and we started leaving our bedroom door open at night, it emboldened him to rediscover the outdoors. Overall I think he probably coped with the building chaos better than I did, bless him.
May
After a mostly sunny spring, May decided to revert to the Dordogne default of near-permanent drizzle. By week 2 we were back to having evening fires. The building works continued, made more complicated by the return of our poor swallows who kept gamely trying to build a nest in the middle of the building site.
The masons were supposed to have all of the openings done by the end of the week so that measurements could be taken for the doors and windows. They missed the deadline, mainly because they ended up having to redo several things they had either done badly or done at the wrong time. It didn’t occur to them to give the joiner a heads-up either so when the latter showed up and found he had nothing to measure, he left in a huff and didn’t return for a week.
By the start of the third week, the sun made a welcome return. The masons finished concreting the floors and the plasterers started on their bits. To our surprise and dismay, they proved to be even noisier than the masons so I abandoned my office in the mezzanine and installed myself in the guest bedroom with poor Louis.
Mazerock played our first gig of the year at La Grelière on the 18th. The idea was to do a practise gig in front of friends seeing as we’d never played in public with Isabelle before. It was patchy at best. I was in particularly bad form for some reason, messing up most songs. Luckily, we had a kind and forgiving audience. We returned later that evening to eat together.
On the 24th, Mazerock had another practise gig, this time at La Jaunie where we were the entertainment for Hans’ birthday party. I was a lot more relaxed and overall we put on a more polished show.
The next day, Dad came to do his first part of the renovation works. This was the demolition of the kitchen bar. It took around two hours and went smoothly. We weren’t sure if the wooden pillar resting on top of the bar was load-bearing or not but it turned out to be just decorative. From this point on, we were effectively without a kitchen so ate mainly salads, with dinners at Mum and Dad’s on the weekend.
On the subject of Mum and Dad, by this point (barring some electrics and the installation of their fosse) their barn renovation was pretty much done and the results are just stunning. Here a few photos from just before they moved in.
Two major steps in our building works were scheduled for the next week: the fitting of our new doors and windows, and the creation of the opening between the lounge and future kitchen. These were two things we very much wanted to happen at the same time to avoid having gaping holes in the house. Unfortunately, the doors and windows had to be pushed back as the joiners hadn’t received the glass, now expected mid-June. Despite this, we kept to the plan for the wall opening.
And so the worst part of building works got underway. The masons showed up and started making the hole. They put up plastic sheeting in the lounge to contain the dust, but they may as well not have bothered. Our house was covered in thick clouds of the stuff and the noise levels went through the roof. The architect told them they needed to do some cleaning up in our lounge when she saw the chaos, but they didn’t bother.
From this point on, as well as being kitchenless, we were also without mezzanine as they’d had to knock a hole in the wall above the opening to create the lintel. The opening was supposed to be finished that Friday but of course, it wasn’t. What was worse, we noticed that the jambs were obviously not at right-angles. By this point we were becoming very unimpressed with the masons. The problem was that the boss was rarely ever present; the rest of the time he’d leave his team of low-paid and low-skilled labourers to get on with things on their own. They lacked the experience, expertise and motivation to do a good job, and so they didn’t.
June
June always seems to start off grey and cool out here, and this year was no exception. After an iffy first week though, summer suddenly arrived with gusto and the whole rest of the month was a delightful run of 30+ degrees and blue skies.
The masons came back on the 2nd to finish the lintel. Fortunately for us, they couldn’t get their cement mixer to work, so were forced to call their seldom-seen boss. He showed up in a bad mood at having been disturbed and got the mixer going again. I say fortunately because, while he was here, he actually bothered to inspect his team’s work and noticed that the jambs were badly-done and that the opening wasn’t even the right width. So, he instructed them to fix all that before doing the lintel. This meant a frustrating unnecessary extra day of jack-hammering and yet more dust.
After that, the building works pretty much ceased while we waited for the joiners to come and fit the windows. We put some tarp around the opening to try and keep some heat in and did our best to enjoy the relative peace. The masons briefly reappeared that Thursday in order remove some of the supports under the opening. They also “repaired” the wall above (doing a job so poor even I could tell it was an absolute dog’s dinner), meaning that that evening, we were able to reclaim the mezzanine. That was the last we would see of them for over a week so we enjoyed a quiet bank holiday weekend.
The next week, Marty the joiners showed up and fitted all the windows and doors, meaning we finally had a sealed and secure home again. This done, the plasterers and masons could now resume their work. Unfortunately, the latter pulled one of their vanishing acts, leaving our new log shed still nothing more than a foundation. Benoît made a start on the tiling by doing the screed in readiness to start on the kitchen, which he finished over the weekend.
That Saturday was la Fête de la Musique and Mazerock was the entertainment at Milhac, where our local butcher/bar organised an event. Getting set up in the scorching heat was a challenge but by the time we played it had cooled down enough to be comfortable. There were a few mistakes but overall we did ok, helped by a very well-oiled and supportive crowd who kept us playing till gone midnight with their calls for encores.
We had a full house again on the following Monday: the masons returned and began work on the log shed walls while the plasterers got on with sanding and adding the first coats of paint. They all returned the following day, along with Benoît, who did the tiling in the laundry area. By the end of the week, the masons removed the supports under the new opening and the plastic covering, allowing us to appreciate for the first time what our remodelled lounge and kitchen were going to look like.
That weekend, Pascal and Natalie got married. After a short ceremony at the mairie, we enjoyed a vin d’honneur at the market. This was followed by lunch at theirs, catered by Loïc. We then had a brief chill at home before heading back. Mazerock was due to play that evening so we got our equipment set up and then tucked in to the meal while another band played. We were supposed to go on at 10:30 but in the end it was closer to midnight and I was getting very pissed off waiting for the first band to stop, not least because I really wanted to stay sober(ish) before playing – no mean feat at a wedding. When we finally played it was sketchy but very much appreciated by the drunken attendees. Gig out of the way, Matt and I stayed till gone 3am catching up. The next evening, we were back at la Grelière for leftovers and put on an impromptu, unplugged concert.
July
The following week began with 2 of the hottest days we’ve ever had in Mazeroux: 39 and then 40 degrees. Despite the heat, there was much activity. The masons removed our old kitchen sink and Benoît tiled the bathroom. But more importantly, the kitchen installation took place. By the end of the week, our new bathroom was installed, all lights were fitted, the kitchen was finished, and the plasterboarding was done for the new lounge opening.
Trace & Frank came over for their annual visit that week and Mum and Dad got them from Bordeaux. We had a BBQ together at Mum & Dad’s the following evening. We had the parents and T&F over for a BBQ at ours on Friday – our first time hosting in ages. We ate out on the terrace, then moved inside for cards. We saw them again the following evening when we ate at Les Terrasses in St Martin de Fressengeas.
That weekend was a long one, with La Fête Nationale falling on the Monday. Benoît came on Saturday to tile the bedroom, then again on Monday to finish off. Despite it being a holiday, the masons returned too and for a minute we dared to hope they were going to put in a full week, but they vanished after just two days. Meanwhile, the painter worked on the lounge opening and other finishing touches.
Dave, Amy and the kids came over for their annual visit, hot on the heels of Trace and Frank. Mum and Dad spent a few days with them at an aquatic park on the coast, then they returned to the Dordogne. We ate at theirs on Wednesday, then had them over to ours the following evening. That weekend, our incredible run of sunshine ended as it turned cool, cloudy and unsettled and stayed that way for a fortnight.
The painting and log shed roof were both finished the following Monday and then we got a glorious day off, including our first lie-in in weeks, before progress resumed with the return of the elecritican / plumbers who had a few last bits to finish off. The masons should have been here all week too, and their failure to do so all but guarateed that they wouldn’t be finished before the August break. On Thursday the final interior works were finished and the architect came to sign off on it all. Now it was just a case of waiting on the masons, who by this point had attained semi-mythical status.
This was also the week that Mum and Dad collected their two new cats from Isabelle. As their fosse installation was looking likely to take a few weeks, they decided not to wait till they had moved into the barn. The still-nameless wee bundles were soon both entertaining and exhausting them. We got to meet them the following week when we went over for a cheeky mid-week meal. They are beyond cute.
On the last Saturday of the month, we attended La Fête du Spardos in St Pardoux: the first one to be held since 2019. There were fewer stalls and groups than in the past, but we’re thrilled they’ve decided to resurrect it. We went with Mum, Dad, Paul and Fabienne and ate under la halle, where Benoît and Virigine were helping out with the dinner. Afterwards we had a wander and caught a few bands then came home for a superfluous digestif.
August
After a month off, Mazerock was back in concert mode. We kicked off on the 2nd at Camping La Bucherie near Mum and Dad’s. Nat hadn’t been able to make it to a rehearsal in months, so we suggested she sit out this and the rest of the season’s gigs. She may have not taken this very well as she announed she was leaving the group altogether which is a big shame. So we carried on, minus one backing singer, but bolstered by the return of our violinist, Jean-Michel.
Luckily, the weather finally got out of its funk and the sun shone that weekend. This was welcome but it was still quite cold once the night fell. In addition to our usual groupies, we also had the company of B&V and Guillaume and Emily. There were a few mistakes made but overall it went well.
The masons amazed us by pitching up mid-morning on Wednesday of the following week – their first appearance in a little over a fortnight. We foolishly hoped they were here to finish the job, but they had just come to clear up the mess they’d made in the garden. Welcome but also frustrating.
We were in concert again on the 9th, this time at Les Terrasses in St Martin de Fressengeas. The weather by this point had worked itself up to another intense heatwave, making the set up arduous. We ate there with Mum and Dad then started at 9pm. We put on what was probably our best show to date, but were largely ignored by the audience. If it hadn’t been for the parents there would barely have been any applause. Still, we had a good time – and came away 250€ the richer.
The heatwave intensified the following Monday when it peaked at a grotesque 42 degrees, breaking the previous month’s record and putting us and neighbouring departements on red alert. It stayed in the high 30s all that week, with another unnecessary 40 on Friday to kick off a scorching weekend.
We finally got a reprieve the following week when it clouded over and temps fell to the low 20s. The masons returned, but not to make progress: instead they redid some of the log shed woodwork that they had made a hash of. Dad had already seen and planned to fix these bits himself but they beat him to it. They spent two days here making an obscene racket, made all the worse by the fact that it wouldn’t be needed if they were only capable of getting anything right first time.
Mum and Dad’s two cats had their first vet trip that week in order to get them vacinated and chipped. There they discovered that both were in fact male, necessitating a rethink of their names. They are now Milo and Max (rather than Minnie).
My cousin Steph had arranged to visit Mum and Dad that weekend. Her immediate family was all meeting up nearby so she called in on her way down from Düsseldorf where she has lived for the last 7 years. At the last minute, the parents learnt that Steph’s sister Catherine was also planning to stay, along with her husband Andy and their two kids, Jack and Ruby. This made it a bit of a squeeze but they managed. We all ate together on Friday night and the guests left Mum and Dad the next day. That was the day the sun made a welcome return after a week of petulance – and also the day of Mazerock’s penultimate concert of the year.
This was at Sophie and Dom’s for their respective birthdays and was a fun evening, although we had a few technical issues and I managed to make far too many mistakes. The sun stayed with us over the weekend, but by Monday the grey returned and summer fizzled out.
There was a flurry of activity at Mum and Dad’s at the end of the month. Their electricty meter was fitted, the electrics passed inspection, and Benoît came with a digger to install their fosse. All of this went smoothly meaning they were at last able to move into their new home.
September
The masons were back from their break on the 1st but despite this, we saw no sign of them. This was frustrating as we really wanted everything to be over and done with before our own imminent break.
I haven’t listed all our various social events here or this post would be nearing War & Peace proportions, but one activity deserves a special mention. B&V invited us to a restaurant in Périgueux called “Alfred s’invite à Barnabé“. Set right on the river of Périgueux’s south bank, it is a real treasure. The site itself is gorgeous, the staff efficient and attentive, and the food was as delicious as it was copious.
The following day, Mazerock put on its final gig of the year. This took place in the beautful hamlet of La Bucherie and was a sort of Fête des Voisins type event. It wasnt hugely well-attended but it was a nice sunny day and we played about as well as we ever have have so we ended the year on a high.
The architect had got the masons to commit to finishing everything before we left on holiday on the 11th, so we expected them the Monday before, but they did not show. Their secretary came round to apologise (something I suspect she spends a lot of her time doing) and suggested they do the work in our absence. We refused, not wanting them to leave them unsupervised, and arranged for them to do it upon our return on the 22nd.
Leaving Louis in the capable hands of Sophie, who had kindly agreed to housesit for us and test out our new guest quarters, we set off for a week in Corsica. We went with Paul & Fabienne, and made an overnight stop-over at Françoise’s lovely new home in the Gard on our way down. She’s doing well and is very much settled into her new home. Unfortunately she’s having trouble finding work, or else she would have joined us.
Our ferry took us to the south of the island, a mere 20 minutes’ drive from our destination of Saint-Cyprien. Paul used to live in Corsica and still has friends there, including a lovely lady called Géraldine, who has a sumptuous house that was available to rent.
We enjoyed a week of swimming pools, beaches, sunshine, cards and cocktails, and were also joined by Paul’s daugther, Emma and her partner Ayoub for a couple days. Matt even went water-skiing for the first time in 20 years and did not fall once.
After a week of perfect weather, it was tough to return to the dreary drizzle of the Dordogne, particularly as we were back at work the next morning. This was in contrast to the masons, who were clearly going for the award for for most ever no-shows. They had a hard deadline of Friday 26th to finish everything so that we could take delivery of our wood. As the week ticked by, it seemed likely they’d miss this too. In the end they showed up the day before and, having failed to secure a machine, proceeded to render the interior of the log shed by hand.
They reappeared the following Tuesday and put in a full three days’ work (including some shockingly bad masonry that needed redoing by a professional) and at long last it was all over – our renovation work was complete. (Well, more or less ↴).
October
The atrocious weather that greeted us for our first week back gave way to a far more pleasant run of sunshine and mild temperatures. With the log shed rendered, we were at long last able to empty out the guest bedroom of all its crap and convert it to its intended form of gym/music room.
Dad came over the following week and fitted the skirting board in our kitchen, a task that had been delayed while we waited on the wood order. This was the final interior thing we were waiting on and, to paraphrase The Big Lebowski, it really helps to tie the room together. He also made progress on the log shed door and facade.
On the 10th, Jan arrived for her first visit of post-renovation Port 80. We got in quite a bit of socialising during her stay and had a couple days down in Toulouse over Matt’s birthday, a city we last visited 13 years ago. Dad meanwhile finished the log shed, and Benoît’s friend Jaques painted the exterior walls and repaired the afore-mentioned shoddy masonery, bringing us tantalisingly closer still to the end of the works.
For Matt (and Menu)’s birthday weekend, we invited P&F, Mum and Dad and M&M to ours for a copious Mexican-themed meal. The October sun disappeared the next day as the rainy season began in earnest. Jan left the following day and grey drizzly normality resumed as we got caught up on work.
The plumber/electricians came to see us on the following Monday to attach our exterior lights, and the following day the architect called by for the last time to officially sign off on the project, bringing us at long last to the end of the renovations – a mere 113 days over the planned deadline. So, here are some photos. And then let us never speak of it again.
Matt left that Wednesday for a few days in Edinburgh to catch up with Gerald and see his new appartment, leaving me and Louis to man the fort. It was cold, but he had an enjoyable time and got to eat lots of sushi and meat.
November
November began grey and rainy but surprisingly mild. We had a new addition to the family: my cousin Jo gave birth to her third boy on the 3rd. In a tight race with his siblings, Henri and Lando, he wins the best-named competition with the excellent moniker Thibault le Bourgeois. On the 11th, we took a day off to attend the Foire des Dindons in Varaignes, about 30 mins away. An annual festival celebrating all things turkey, it draws thousands of people and has been running for 60 years. We went with B&V and though we failed to secure any turkey for Thanksgiving, we had an enjoyable day and a copious meal.
The mild temperatures plunged down to single digits for the 2nd half of the month with our first frosts and even a precocious and unwelcome dusting of snow. On the 22nd, Milhac Loisirs organised what threatened to be a repeat of the Great Karaoke Disaster of 2016. In the end, despite the cold, nearly 40 people showed up so it just about broke even, and it wasn’t just Matt and Paul singing all evening.
Matt set off the following Tuesday to Minneapolis for a family Thanksgiving. His outward flight had to turn back soon after take-off due to a mechanical fault meaning he had to stay an extra night in Paris. He made it the following day in time for the big meal and got to enjoy a slice of bitter Minnesotan winter. He also managed to pick up a stomach bug that took him out for a day. He got home the following Tuesday, to the great relief of the cat.
December
November’s cold snap gave way to the Dordogne default of soul-destroying grey drizzle, although it did warm up – unseasonably so even. Matt had his 2nd Thanksgiving, this time here at Port 80. We invited B&V, Guillaume, Emily and Titouan, and the parents. Benoît handled the turkey and Virginie the dessert, leaving Matt to prepare the rest. An enjoyable, boozy evening of overeating ensued.
I know I said the building works were by now all finished but there were a couple of last additions. Dad set up some much-needed guttering for the log shed and Benoît made us a concrete path from the shed to the house so we’d no longer be traipsing in mud every time we brought in some wood.
We hosted for Christmas this year, joined by Mum and Dad who showed up in the early afternoon. We had a leisurely apéritif or two and opened our presents. Matt made us a delicious and copious Christmas meal which was followed by cards and plenty more drinks, including the invention of two new cocktails.
On the 30th, we had our final visitor of the year when Kevin drove up from Antibes up to help us celebrate New Year’s, which also took place at Port 80. We had invited about 15 people but there were a few last minute cancellations, mainly due to illness. In addition to us three, there were Manu & Mathilde, Sylvie and Olivier, Paul, and Isabelle and Sael. Despite the reduced numbers, we saw out the year in style, with multiple rounds of cocktails, lots of champagne and dancing into the night. Isabelle was the last to leave, much to her son’s displeasure, and we all crashed soon after, at around 5am.
Ok, what else? I haven’t mentioned work so far and I suppose I should, despite the already ridiculous length of this post. So, our swimming pool client kept pumping us full of money all year, which was very welcome seeing as our renovation works went rather spectacularly over budget. Matt has now officially gone down to four days a week in advance of his planned early retirement. As long as swimming pool sales hold up, we should be all good for the foreseeable.
And so here we are staring into the maw of 2026 – a year that, unbelievably, marks the 10 year anniversary of Bowie’s death and the Cursed Year. Although if this year has taught me anything, it is that I was wrong to call it that. The very concept carries within it a belief that it was an aberration, that things would subsequently improve. I think we can all now agree that this is not the case. Anyway, that is the (overly long) story of 2025. In a heartbeat I would give up all that we gained if it meant retrieving what we lost, but sadly that isn’t how the world works. All you can do, to quote a wise man, is turn and face the strange.
2025 summed up in one David Bowie song: Everyone Says “Hi”
The obvious choice was Changes, but that song is sung by a young man looking at the future and saying “bring it on, I am not afraid” which doesnt fit. It’s too musically chirpy anyway. So I so went with this from his 2002 album, Heathen. On first listen, it sounds like the singer is missing someone close who abruptly moved away, telling them they can always come home again if things don’t work out. In fact, the person being addressed has died and the singer can’t quite accept it, so prefers to delude himself.