To me, Pappa was a hero in the quietest, most genuine way. He always made time for me. I remember how often he took me to the park, just me him and Aynsley. Those simple moments, walking hand in hand, sitting on the bench, or playing together, are memories I’ll treasure forever. He didn’t need grand gestures; his presence alone made the world feel better and happy. He was always slipping me sweets, handing over pocket money with a smile and if I ever asked for more, he never said no. He gave without hesitation, because that was just who he was. When I faced a scolding from my parents or gran, Pappa was my shield. He’d gently stepped in, calmed things down, and protected me. He always had my back. I’ll never forget how he always made me a cup of Horlicks, especially before bed, warming the milk, stirring it just right, and honestly, it tasted better when he made it One of my sweetest memories is how he would make me pick random numbers for him to play the lottery. Pappa played the lottery weekly, always hopeful and full of faith that one day he’d win big. His dream was simple yet beautiful: to buy a big house where all of us could live together under one roof, laughter filling every room, family close at all times. That dream showed me the depth of his love for family and how much he wanted us to be together Through every small act, a walk in the park, a few coins in my hand, a reassuring word when I needed it, Pappa showed me what it means to truly care. I miss you, Pappa. Thank you for every sweet, every quiet rescue, every park visit and most of all, for the love that will stay with me forever. Pappa continue to protect me from above. I love you, rest in peace!