Apr. 1 at 8:11 PM
$CELH When my father passed, I was the one who found him, like he had just woken in the night and paused between moments. Peaceful, quiet, gone. I kissed him goodbye, trying to hold onto something words could not explain. Later, searching for answers in the small details he left behind, I noticed an empty trash can with just one Celsius inside. It was such a simple thing, but it stayed with me. Now when I grab one, I think of him, not for how he left, but for how he lived, stubborn, independent, and entirely his own man.
