My daughter, at 14 and 15 respectively, for my mother and father’s deaths, went every day to where they lay dying and played her flute for them. Each had a favourite piece, so she’d play that and a few others. When they’d died she said she’d like to work with the dying – there was a special purity to life in it! My father lay listening to her and said ‘music…’ and just thought it was the finest thing!
