Ganza

People say grief is the price of love, and I'm feeling the weight of it now. Growing up with Sahil was an adventure. We were two kids trying to find our way, learn about ourselves and the world around us. Sahil was always there, a constant presence in all the chaos, the fun, the learning. Teachers struggled to keep up with our energy, but Sahil was always right in the thick of it, smiling, alive, and full of life.

What stays with me, looking back across all those years, is how rare it was to ever see him sad. Or angry. Or defeated. While the rest of us moved through the full spectrum of boyhood emotion ,the petty frustrations, the bruised egos, the confusion , Sahil carried something different. A steadiness. A warmth that felt almost unreasonable in how freely he gave it.

His family Had crossed an ocean to build something in a foreign country, to make a life in a place that had no obligation to feel like home. Yet there was nothing in him that reflected that difficulty. He made you feel welcomed. He made you feel known. As if he had always been there, as if he had been waiting for you.

It wasn’t only him , it was his family. There was a wholeness to the world that Sahil came from that made every encounter with them feel like something you wanted to protect. Those memories are not small. They are the kind that sit quietly in you for years, and you only realize their weight when something like this happens.

I remember him pulling up to the college just to check on me. Just to show up. Those gestures, the ones that ask nothing in return, are the ones that outlive everything.

I thought we had more time. That is the thought that sits heaviest. But then I return to what we did have — and it was nothing short of perfect.

The lessons you passed without ever intending to teach. The admiration you drew from everyone around you without ever asking for it. All of it is rushing back to me now, vivid and full, and somewhere inside that flood of memory lives a quiet certainty, that we will see each other again.

And when we do, we will pick up exactly where we left off. The way we always did. Like no time had passed at all.

Happy Birthday My BOY🕺🏽🎉🎂 … Eleven years ago you arrived without asking to, as all of us do — and yet you have made more meaning out of your days than most people make in a lifetime. Watching you, I think freedom doesn’t have to be a burden. In your hands, it looks like a choice made fresh every morning: to be kind today. To be present today. To laugh today.

I love you My Boy !!!!

Happy Birthday 🎂✨

From the moment you came into my world, I gave myself one mission — to keep you safe and taken care of. What I didn’t expect was you turning around and completely changing me. You flipped my whole world upside down and showed me, in full picture, what love actually looks like.

I love how selfless you are. How you put everyone before yourself. How you see the world through a lens that gives me genuine hope because a person who sees life the way you do was meant to be here. You are a miracle, and I mean that literally. Through every obstacle life threw at you before you even had a say, you chose to show up and the impact you’re already leaving on the people around you tells me everything about the impact you’ll leave on this world.

Happy 13th Birthday. People like to pretend they don’t know how time got us here — but I’m clear. It was the love you brought into our world. The way you treat your little brother. The way you show up for your friends. That love is what’s carrying us, and it’s what will carry us through 100 more of these.

May God grant you the wisdom to keep leading us all. May every talent in you keep growing, and may every wish your heart holds come true.

I love you endlessly. 💙

https://youtu.be/mLIJgTwIqvU?si=fb_J_ouQT_w8DIJk