A Bench for Dyllan

You didn’t just meet Dyllan, you experienced him. The moment he walked into a room, it felt lighter. Happier. Safe. Like you didn’t have to be anything other than exactly who you were.

He was funny without trying. Jolly in the most effortless way. Dyllan had this way of making you feel like you belonged, often by handing you a sticker, a flyer, or a random piece of junk mail he was convinced you needed. It was his version of a welcome gift, and it always came with a proud smile.

He loved his routines: collecting stickers, enjoying manicures, and making people laugh with unexpected one-liners. One time, someone dropped off a batch of butter tarts as a treat for him. When his mom, Cindy, went to get hers, they were gone.

“Dyllan, where did the butter tarts go?” she asked.

“They moved to my belly,” he replied with a grin, completely satisfied.

That was Dyllan, sweet, mischievous, and never pretending to be anything but himself. He didn’t hold grudges. He didn’t play games. He didn’t carry bitterness. He lived openly and honestly, and in that way, he taught the rest of us something we often forget: that goodness doesn’t need to be complicated.

We want to create something lasting in his honour a bench placed in one or two of his favourite parks. A peaceful spot where people can sit, reflect, smile, and maybe even laugh a little, just like Dyllan would have wanted.

If you’re able to donate, thank you from the bottom of our hearts.

With love,

Dyllan’s family