easter’s quiet this year. no chocolate eggs. no brunch. no voice telling me it’s ready.

just me.

i don’t really care about easter as a holiday. but i used to like what came with it. not the tradition. not belief. just the routine. just being around people.

my dad made brunch every year. he didn’t make a big deal out of it. it just happened. the food, the table, him standing in the kitchen like it was normal.

he died last summer.

since then, days like this feel off.

but if there’s one thing his absence has taught me, it’s that life is not made of the big things. not the accomplishments, the milestones, the photos you post.

it’s the small things.

the unspoken glances. the routine hello’s. the sunday mornings.

the way he poured coffee. the way he laughed when no one else found my dumb jokes funny. the quiet presence.

there hasn’t been a day since he passed that i didn’t miss him.

some days more than others.

there’s a certain pain in everything i do, and yet life goes on.

if you’re with family look around you, notice their smiles, their love, the way they look at you when you speak.

cherish these moments. spent as much time as you can and make as many memories as you can.

hug them a bit longer before you leave the door every morning.

and for the people that are alone like me - i’m also thinking about you.

happy easter!

i’m sorry.