Colors

Colors of Memory, Threads of Love This past weekend, we bought tickets for a Holi celebration. It wasn’t a spontaneous plan—it was a quiet decision rooted in remembrance. Holi was one of Sana’s favorite festivals. Every year, she celebrated it with such joy and devotion. She would join her closest friends and immerse herself in colors, laughter, and the pure magic of the moment. It became her tradition—something that brought her a kind of happiness only a few things in life could. I hadn’t played Holi in years. Life had moved on, and with it, so had many traditions. But this year, I felt an undeniable pull to honor Sana in this way. I wanted to feel her joy, her presence, in the swirl of colors. To return, even for a few moments, to a ritual that once brought her so much happiness. At the celebration, I couldn’t help but notice Maahir and Serena—how thoughtful, how present, how full of love they were. Every small gesture, every moment of shared laughter, reminded me that Sana’s spirit lives on in the people who continue to honor her memory with their kindness. Grief has a strange way of resurfacing in the most colorful of places. And sometimes, honoring those we’ve lost means leaning into the things they loved most. Holi reminded me that love doesn’t fade—it simply changes form. It lives on in color, in celebration, and in connection. In remembering Sana, we keep her spirit alive. And in loving each other more deeply, we continue her legacy of kindness, joy, and unwavering love.