WHAT REMAINS
What Remains is the most personal piece I’ve ever written. It was composed in the months following the loss of my mother—a loss that reshaped everything I thought I understood about love, memory, and resilience. Writing this piece was not an act of closure, but of survival. It gave me a way to process what words could not hold.
The work unfolds in three movements, played attacca—each reflecting a part of the emotional landscape I walked
through: the innocence and comfort of life before loss, the devastation and stillness that followed, and the slow, fragile process of learning to keep moving forward.
This is not a eulogy. It is not even an answer. What Remains is simply an attempt to hold space—for grief, for memory, and for the quiet, enduring love that stays behind when someone we love is gone.
I. Before We Knew
This movement is a reflection of life before I understood how deep loss could feel. It’s filled with warmth, light, and the simple kind of joy that doesn’t yet know its own fragility
