Louis "Grandpa, Daddy, Mas Louis" Zachariah Thompson

From the time I was seven until I was eighteen, he stepped into a role he never had to take on, but he did it without question. He raised me with patience, discipline, and a quiet strength that never asked for recognition. I understand his sacrifices more deeply now, and he gave me something priceless: stability, love, and a sense of belonging. He was a cricketer in his former years, and most fittingly, his life reflected the spirit of the game he loved. He lived 99 years, 99 not out, in a long, remarkable innings marked by resilience, consistency, and heart. Even at the end, he never quit; he finished his innings with dignity. While I find peace knowing he is now free from sickness and pain, my heart still wasn’t ready. I wasn’t ready to see him leave the field. No amount of time could have prepared me for that moment. The memories we shared are some of my greatest treasures, and they don’t end with me. I still taste those early‑morning fried plantains, still hear his voice teaching me lessons I didn’t fully understand at the time. He warned me not to jump out of the back of the car or tie a rope to the gate post and swing from it, and of course, I did it anyway, breaking my leg just like he said I would. Even that memory, painful as it was, became a lesson wrapped in love and patience. And then there were the moments that showed his joy, like the last‑minute run to Elderslie for ice cream after the shopkeeper had already gone to bed. Only he could knock on a door that late and walk away smiling, ice cream in hand. Y’all know he loved his ice cream. Those small adventures, those quiet acts of delight, are pieces of him I will carry forever. I will carry his stories forward and share them with my children, so they will know the man who shaped me. His legacy lives in the lessons he taught, the love he gave, and the memories that will continue to echo through every generation that comes after him. Thank you for being my father when I needed one most. Your innings may have ended, but your legacy lives on. 99 not out, forever.