Happy Heavenly Birthday, Peter.
Seven years have passed, and every one of them has felt heavier without you. Losing you so soon never made sense — especially when your life was just beginning to unfold. In your thirty years, you accomplished so much, and I was endlessly proud of you.
Growing up among the four of us siblings, you and I always had our own rhythm — the same humour, the same way of understanding each other instantly. Maybe it was the Virgo–Pisces sister‑sign bond, but we just clicked in a way no one else could replicate. You were my idol, my best friend, my role model, my confidante. You were like a second father to me, always protecting me, always guiding me. I was blessed to have you as my angel on earth, and you still are.
Some of my favourite memories are the ones that felt small at the time — your contagious laughter, the funny videos we sent back and forth, and the nights we stayed up until early morning laughing until we cried. We loved watching people get scared, and that infamous African Dad prank where he finds out his son got a girl pregnant… I can still hear you imitating him. You even set his dramatic “pregannntttt?!” as your ringtone. It was so ridiculous, so funny, and so us.
