NICHOLAS ALEXANDER ZIRLOTT

Nicholas was the kind of person you only meet once in a lifetime. From the time he was small, he carried something rare—an ease with the world around him, a quiet understanding of people, a way of making anyone feel like they belonged. He could sit with the young or the old, the loud or the quiet, and make conversation flow like he had known them forever. He was an old soul with a young heart, a mind full of curiosity, and a personality that filled every room he entered.

He never did anything halfway. When Nicholas talked, he didn’t just skim the surface—he dove in. He could hold his own in any discussion, spinning thoughts into words with the kind of confidence that made you listen. He wasn’t just smart—he was thoughtful. He saw the world differently, and if you were lucky enough, he let you see it through his eyes.

But more than anything, Nicholas loved. He loved deeply, fiercely, without hesitation. His hugs weren’t just hugs—they were safe places, the kind of embrace that said, I see you. I’ve got you. You are loved. And God, how he was loved in return.

To hold him one more time, to hear his voice, to laugh at one more joke—these are the wishes that linger in the hearts of those who miss him. If love alone could have kept him here, he’d still be lighting up rooms, still making people feel like they belonged, still embracing the world with that unshakable Nicholas energy.

But love does not end. It does not disappear. Nicholas lives on in the stories, in the laughter, in the echoes of his voice when his favorite songs play. He is in the hearts that still beat for him, forever and always.