Tirishan Anna. Even just saying his name feels like a memory in itself. His voice, his laugh, his presence. It’s hard to believe someone so full of life, so deeply carved into my heart. Now he's gone. But he’s not gone, not really. Someone like him doesn’t just disappear. He leaves pieces of himself in every corner of the world he touched, in every person grateful and blessed enough to know him. I remember how we spent that time together, just over a year ago. Those moments feel like yesterday. The late night talks, the meals we shared, the laughter that came so easily, the silences that felt comfortable, like home. He wasn’t just my cousin, he was my brother in every way that mattered. A bond like that isn’t ordinary. It’s rare, it’s irreplaceable, and it’s something I’ll carry with me forever. And now, every memory is both a treasure and a weight. I think about the times we texted, the calls where we laughed or talked about nothing and everything. It’s those small things that hurt the most, the little pieces of him that made every day a little brighter. And to think, just a week ago, we were on the phone. How could I have known it would be the last time? How could anyone? But Tirishan Anna wouldn’t want us to live in sorrow. He’d want us to remember him, as he was full of life, full of love, full of laughter. And I promise, I will. I’ll honor him in the way I live, in the way I laugh, in the way I love other cousins, and others, overall. He taught me that life is about the moments we share, the bonds we create, and the memories we leave behind. To me, Tirishan Anna was more than family. He was a reminder of what it means to live fully, to care deeply, and to love without reservation. Losing him is a pain I’ll carry forever, but it’s a pain that reminds me how much he mattered, how much he gave, and how lucky I was to have him in my life, even for a little while. Rest easy, Anna. I’ll carry your memory with me, always.