My grandmother Kitty passed away from covid in March of 2020. Because of the pandemic, we were never able to give her the send-off she deserved, and it has weighed heavily on my family these past two years. After a long time spent trying to figure out how to celebrate her life, this fall, I decided to enlist a 65-piece orchestra to help bid her farewell the best way I knew how.

Kitty, or as I called her, Nana, was my connection to music. Some of my earliest memories are of her singing along to the Irish radio. She played fiddle, gifted me my first keyboard, and always encouraged me to take piano lessons. She never missed a recital.

On May 5, 1951, a month shy of her twenty-first birthday, my grandmother boarded a ship to America after the unexpected loss of her mother. I think often about what that must have been like. The grief of leaving home, the hope for new beginnings. And I think about what it would have been like to be on the pier in Cobh that day, seeing her off. Wishing more than anything for one more day together, but hopeful for calmer shores ahead.

This piece is dedicated to her journey, her fortitude, and the lilting melodies she made me fall in love with.