This piece was written in dedication to my grandfather, James Kessinger, who passed away on October 27, 2019. In his last weeks alive, he spent his time in the hospital, and I spent much of the time I could visiting him. While there, I began to associate many of my visits with the sound of heart monitors, beating rhythmically and constantly in a small cluster of tones. Whenever I got to see and speak with my grandfather, however, it felt like a fresh breath of air out of the encroaching monotony of the hospital itself. The interplay between the marimba and vibraphone of a constant drone being constantly overtaken by a soft melody was something that I felt I wanted to portray through this piece.