Echoes of Light

The Story

Echoes of Light was written in the emergency department. My mother had just been admitted. Everything moved fast: forms, voices, doors opening and closing. Then suddenly, nothing. Only one family member was allowed to stay with her. My father went in. I stayed outside. That separation is the heart of the song. I wasn't there to hold her hand. I wasn't there to speak. I was in the hallway, sitting with fear, counting minutes, listening to hospital sounds that feel louder when you're not allowed to be close. There was nothing I could do. No decision to make. No control to take back. So I waited. Echoes of light became something I repeated quietly to myself. Not as optimism. As balance. A way to keep my thoughts from going dark while time stretched in the emergency room. The song is slow because waiting is slow. The words are simple because in moments like that, complex thoughts disappear. You don't think in metaphors. You think in presence. The Khmer lines come from that exact place. They are not written for beauty. They are what I wanted to say but couldn't: Mom, I'm here. Please, let the light stay with us. Outside, life kept moving. Inside, my world was reduced to a door I couldn't cross and the hope that what was happening behind it would end well. This song is not about drama. It's about waiting without falling apart. About loving someone when the only thing you're allowed to do is stay still. Echoes of Light is a moment I didn't choose, but one I will always remember.