Rishi Keshe Hirway

Years ago, when I was making my first recordings, I would play my songs over and over and over again in my bedroom.

My music career wasn't really something I could talk about with my parents.

They were hardworking immigrants whose dream for me had been to become a doctor or a lawyer.

But every now and then, I would hear my mom humming one of my songs just to herself in the kitchen.

And that felt like some kind of unspoken approval.

And over the years, whenever I would hear my mom humming one of my songs, it made me so happy.

Last fall, my mom passed away.

And a few weeks after her funeral, I had a dream where I got to see her and talk to her and visit with her for a little bit.

And I woke up filled with longing and sadness, but also gratitude for this moment and this dream.

And I ended up writing a song about it.

But it's so good to see you It's so good to see you See you again

In the bridge, I stopped singing for a little bit, and I just hummed a melody.

I was thinking about my mom, and I wanted to try and represent her in the music in some way.

One of the people who I talked to about the song while I was making it was Yoyoma.

I told him, this is what this song is about, and this is what the music is supposed to do in this part.

And I asked him, do you think that the cello could represent my mom's voice?

And he listened to everything that I said, and then he played those notes.

Okay, here's everything together again.

So now, what's your experience when you listen to that from inside the house?

Every conversation has the potential to open up and reveal all the layers and layers within it, all those rooms within rooms.