Valentine's Day... I'll never celebrate it again. I could never. My heart was broken. I lost my father. Y'all know him as "Pops," but I used to call him "Quillis." It was the second worst day of my life, only second to losing my mom, because I lost her first. I lost the last person I could talk to without being judged. My last living parent... I can't believe I'm even doing this. This is crazy, but it is what it is.

My dad, Albert Mack, was 57 years old when he passed away. He was born in Harlem, NYC, on July 20th, 1968, and he was truly a great man. He wasn’t just a father to me—he was a father figure to so many people in our community. Everyone loved him, and he loved everyone right back. He was always honest, and he had a way of making people feel seen and cared for. If He Loved You, You Already Know How He Was Coming Behind You! If you lived in our neighborhood, chances are you shared a drink and a laugh with him at some point. He was a staple in Harlem, and his presence will be deeply missed.

I am his only child, Albert Mack (Lil AL). It's funny because I always used to hate when people called me that. Not because I didn't want to be his Jr or anything—I just didn't want to be “Lil.” Now I welcome it proudly! He is survived by me and his two granddaughters, Aliyah (7) and Amiyah (3). I already lost my mom, so my dad was all I had left as far as a parent. And now my babies are left with no grandparents on my side. He meant everything to me and to our family. Losing him so suddenly, and in such a difficult way, has been incredibly hard. He didn’t deserve to go like that, and I want to make sure he gets the send-off he deserves.

I’m asking for help to bring my dad down from Albany to the city, and to pay for his service. Any support you can give means the world to me and my daughters as we try to honor his memory. Thank you for helping us during this difficult time.