In October 2019, my niece Nina was diagnosed with acute myeloid leukemia. To say it was a shock to my family is underselling it. While the doctors at Dell Children's Hospital in Austin did their work, the pandemic hit, making it essentially impossible for anyone other than her mom Maria, dad Mich, and brother Connor to visit her. The last time I saw her was literally the day before the hospital went into lockdown, and she was so miserable due to the pain and the chemo that we were barely able to have a conversation.

By summer she'd moved to a hospital in St. Louis for more aggressive treatment. Sadly, her wretched disease became sneaky, reappearing in other parts of her body whenever the doctors thought it had finally retreated. She died in August 2020, barely two months after turning 18.

My family feels her loss every day. So does the world, even though it may not realize it. Nina was exceptionally smart, doggedly determined, casually self-confident (at least outwardly), and one of the most compassionate people I knew, even when she tried to hide it with sarcasm and a raised eyebrow. We often said that she would be president someday, and we were only half - maybe a quarter - joking.

I firmly believe she would've made a big impact on this fragile planet of ours, and mourn the loss of whatever positive effects she would've had on it.

During the pandemic my wife Liegh bought me a tablet with GarageBand loaded into it. I spent the next couple of years teaching myself to use it in my usual manner, i.e. running before walking, compiling dozens of tracks in my hard drive - old songs that had never been recorded, new creations, improvised doodles that evolved into actual tracks, and some real garbage. From this process emerged a set of songs that were clearly speaking to one topic: Nina, especially the impact she had, and the grief I felt from her absence. One day it dawned on me that I could release these songs, for family and friends if no one else, as a fundraiser for one of the organizations that my sister and her daughter supported. Thus was born the Grace EP.

For four years, Nina participated in Girls Rock Camp, playing drums and guitar, designing flyers, and just generally being her incredibly cool self. As such, Maria and I have decided that all proceeds from sales of this EP will go to Girls Rock Austin, a great organization that made Nina very happy over several summers, and that Maria and I love to support. Thank you, GRA, for everything you've done and continue to do.

Some notes on the songs:

"Grief"
I came up with this while banging away on an unplugged Eastern Airline 12-string, pointing the mic at the F-hole and laying it down that way. The melody line was mostly improvised via ebow on Strat, telling the story the way I hadn't realized it needed to be told.

"The Devil in My Bones"
This was written about a month before Nina passed as a message of support. Like all of us, I had the confidence that she was going to beat the cancer, and took my time recording it. I finished the track barely a week before she died, and never had a chance to share it with her. I hope wherever she is she hears it now, even if it's too little, too late.

"Old Enough to Fly"
The title and initial verse just came to me one day, but it took a year to refine the lyrics and work up the right music, though it turned out to be an example of feel trumping craft. The snare drum is from the drum kit I bought for Nina when she was 9. That kit has since been donated to Girls Rock Austin.

"The Torch"
This is my attempt to expand outward beyond my personal feelings, and try to speak for the world that doesn't know what it lost. I know I can't measure up to the example Nina would've set, but hopefully other people will.

"First Christmas"
That first Christmas without her felt nothing but wrong.

"Grace"
Created by putting my Strat on my lap and tapping the strings on the neck, this spoke to me as the natural conclusion. The pursuit of grace - however you define it - is meant to be a challenge, as personal an experience as there is for anybody. We rise, fall, and rise again along the way, and I hope this piece conveys that.

Making this EP was one of the hardest things I've ever done in my life, for all the reasons you can imagine. I hope you enjoy it, and thank you for your support.