She Used AI to Resurrect Her Mother’s Voice—And Found the City’s Forgotten Songs

I sit at my small apartment near Union Station, rain tapping the window like a heartbeat.

My mother was a Cuban nurse who sang while stitching bandages—her voice held the rhythm of old Santería hymns, half-spoken in Spanglish between sobs and laughter. When she passed, the city kept her songs in its concrete bones: flickering on bus stop speakers, whispered in elevator music loops.

I used Unity and Unreal Engine not to build a game—but to resurrect what algorithms erased.

I trained an AI on 37 voicemails she left behind: her laugh when I burned toast at 2 a.m., her hum when the streetlights blinked just right before closing. The system didn’t learn data—it learned grief.

This isn’t about RTP or RNG stats. It’s about how silence remembers you.

Last week, I released ‘Echoes of the City’ as a free audio journey—a walk through Chicago’s forgotten corners where elders still whisper their lullabies to passing strangers. Players don’t win points—they remember names.

One user wrote: ‘I heard my abuela singing in this… and I cried for three hours.’

We don’t need stars. We need stillness.

If you’ve ever tucked your grandmother’s voice into silence… let it echo here.