The Cat Who Brought Music to Hospicare (And the Woman Who Led the Charge)
Gracie’s story began in Room 6 at the Hospicare residence on King Road.
One day, a patient started asking for extra milk with unusual frequency. The secret he was hiding didn’t stay a secret for long, and eventually, an aide went to Executive Director Nina Miller. “You should probably come down to the room,” the aide said.
As Nina walked down the hall, she noticed that the nurses and staff were all watching her. When she opened the door, she understood why: curled up next to the patient was a black-and-white cat, sound asleep.
The nurses worried that Nina might send the cat away. Instead, Nina could see that the patient—and the staff—had already grown attached. After making sure that the cat wasn’t missing from a nearby home, she decided to let her stay. The only thing left to do was to name her, so Nina went from room to room, cat in her arms, asking residents for suggestions. One name stuck: Gracie.
A Comfort Like No Other
Gracie quickly became part of daily life at the residence. She trotted freely throughout the building, visiting with residents, families, volunteers, and staff alike. And while she spent time with everyone, she often formed close bonds with specific patients, curling up beside them in their final days. Staff even noticed that she would grieve after a resident passed.
At night, they’d sometimes carry her from room to room, saying, “Say goodnight, Gracie”—a nod to George Burns and his wife Gracie Allen, who used to end their television show the same way.
Patients began to see Gracie as more than a companion. One, Jean Hope, called her a “nurse angel” for the way she never left her side. When Jean died, her family asked that donations be made in her honor to a new fund: the Gracie Fund.
Those gifts gave Hospicare the chance to start something new.
From Cat to Choir
In 2005, longtime Hospicare volunteer and musician Jeannie Barnaba suggested that Nina call Jayne Demakos, who was already bringing music to the residence in an unofficial capacity. Jeannie knew Jayne’s background as a harpist and certified music–thanatologist made her the perfect fit for their needs.
Nina followed up on the suggestion and soon invited Jayne to begin a music program at Hospicare. With the Gracie Fund as its foundation, Jayne launched Women Singin’—a playful echo of the Women Swimmin’ for Hospicare fundraiser. About twenty women gathered and sang choral, ambient songs in the Great room of the residence for patients, who could hear from their rooms if their doors were open.
The goal was simple: to invite the community into the residence and offer patients gentle, loving sound. Over time, Women Singin’ evolved into the Threshold Choir, now connected to an international network of nearly 200 chapters that share a common vision: A world where all at life’s thresholds may be honored with compassion shared through song.
Threshold Choir singers receive training around death and grief, learning to bring calm and tenderness to the bedside. Their harmonized voices create a lullaby-like quality—something that feels personal, intimate, and deeply human. While not a substitute for music therapy or music-thanatology, the Threshold Choir singing “complements both beautifully,” Jayne says.
Jayne’s Calling
Jayne herself is trained as a music-thanatologist—as she sometimes describes it as a “medical harpist”—who specializes in end-of-life care. Using harp and voice, music-thanatologists address what Dame Cicely Saunders, the founder of modern hospice, called the “total pain” of patients: physical, emotional, spiritual, psychological, and social suffering.
Through music, Jayne and her colleagues help ease anxiety, insomnia, respiratory distress, high blood pressure, and even existential pain. “Music can create a sense of wholeness, healing, and connection,” Jayne explains. “It can restore the soul, and sometimes even help create a kinder dying.”
In addition to her work at Hospicare, Jayne taught at Ithaca College, often bringing students into the residence to experience the power of music at the hospice bedside.
When COVID-19 shut everything down, both her teaching and her position at Hospicare were put on hold. Jayne moved to Washington state for a two-year position as a full-time music-thanatologist at a large hospital. When her contract ended, she returned to Ithaca—and to Hospicare.
A Legacy of Music and Love
After several years at the residence, Gracie found a permanent home with Jeannie, where she lived out her life in comfort. Jeannie herself died at the Hospicare residence in the spring of 2025, leaving behind a legacy of compassion, service, and song.
Today, thanks to the cat who wandered into Room 6 and the people who carried her legacy forward, music is still part of the care Hospicare provides. Patients and families who want music services can ask their care team, and those who feel called to share their musical talents can contact our volunteer coordinator, Wendy Yettru, to learn how to get involved.