Dear Papichou,

I don’t know if letters travel beyond this world, but if they do, I hope this one reaches you wrapped in love and gratitude.

God could have chosen anyone to be my father, but He chose you—and for that, I am endlessly grateful. You were the first man who ever loved me deeply, unconditionally, and fiercely. And you were the first man I ever loved in return.

You were my protector, my caretaker, my safe place. I remember the small but powerful ways you showed your love—how you made sure your driver dropped me off at the hair salon, only to return at 12 or 1 PM sharp with my favorite lunch in hand. I’d sit there, knowing I was the only one in the salon getting such royal treatment from a father who thought of everything.

I remember how, every week, you would stop on your way home to buy me my favorite teenage magazines, just because you knew they made me happy. Those little moments, those simple acts of love, they weren’t so little after all. They were magic.

When you passed, I used to see you in my dreams. You never spoke, but you always looked peaceful. Lately, those dreams have faded, and some days, I go without thinking about you. But then, without warning, your memory rises to the surface, and my first thought is always the same: He loved me unconditionally.

That love has never left me. It shaped me, carried me, made me who I am. And even though I can’t hear your voice or see you in my dreams anymore, I know you are with me—always.

Thank you for being my dad. Thank you for every single thing, big and small. I carry you with me, in the quiet moments and the loud ones, in the dreams that have faded and the love that never will.

I love you with my soul now and forever

Salima