This morning I piped for a lovely woman from Cork. Apparently, she's recently been diagnosed as terminal, and the family was getting together (this seems to be a increasing trend; families hiring me to pipe for someone before the funeral, while they're still here to enjoy it with them). Her son met me and ushered me out to a courtyard to warm up. Her daughter, indoors with her, said that when she heard the pipes strike in, her eyes lit up; it was a complete surprise. She came out, sat in the warm sunshine overlooking the water, and sang along with every Irish pipe tune I know (except the dance tunes); even Amhrán na bhFiann, which she sang in Irish; she knew them all. She appeared to be genuinely delighted, and her son & daughter thought it was wonderful; she said that their mother wasn't a "flowers and candy sort of woman", and that this was the most perfect gift imaginable. It was with sincere pleasure that I wished her a happy St. Patrick's Day next week as I made my exit.

As a piper, it's days like this that I live for.