Today marks forty days since you left us, Papa. It feels surreal, forty days without hearing your voice, seeing your smile, or feeling your presence. They say time heals, but it hasn’t felt that way yet. Each passing day only amplifies the void you left behind.

We gathered today for prayers, lighting candles in your memory, hoping you’re at peace now in a place free from pain and suffering. I kept thinking about all the little things: the way you laughed, the wisdom in your words, and how you always managed to make me feel safe, no matter what.

As I looked around at the people who came to remember you, I realized how much of an impact you had on their lives too. You were loved by so many, Papa. I wish I could tell you how proud I am to be your child.

I miss you terribly. Sometimes it feels like I can still hear your voice, as if you’re just in the other room. I wonder if you know how much you’re missed, how much we still need you here.

Forty days feels like a lifetime, and yet it’s as if you left just yesterday. I pray that you’re watching over us, guiding us like you always did.

Thank you for everything, Papa. I’ll carry your memory with me always.

Rest well, Papa. Until we meet again.

Love,

Ana 💋