Greyduster
Not long after DH died, I drove home along a favourite country route, early in the morning, the sun still quite low, with the slow movement of the Emperor Concerto playing on the radio. It was the calmest and most at peace I had felt for a long time. I stopped the car to listen to it, so that I wouldn’t have to concentrate on anything else. Sublime.
I can actually sense what you've written about that early morning experience - I'd imagine your mind was in a receptive state. I understand why you stopped the car. 
The second movement of the Emperor was my partner's favourite piece of music of all time. It was played at his funeral last year.
When I hear it now, on the radio, I am motionless - it is immensely poignant, but also, consoling.
Apparently, Beethoven composed the concerto whilst taking refuge in his brother's basement in Vienna when the city was under siege, and occupation, by Napoleon's army. He described the experience to his publisher saying that all around him there was "nothing but drums, cannons, men, misery of all sorts."
Bearing that in mind, I always feel that the final movement is both defiant and heroic.