Paul Carlile derived his passion for Liverpool FC from his nan and would split his time between visiting her and his mother - the two women he adored. He loved his family and was said to be protective of siblings Donna, Michelle and Darren.
Donna told the inquests: "We talk about him every day. We miss his laugh, his handsome face and his enthusiasm for life."
Paul William Carlile was born on August 8, 1969. Paul came into this world weighing just 4lbs. He fought hard to survive but grew to become a handsome, loving, respectful young man. He was the first boy born to Sandra after his sisters, Donna and Michelle. Paul's younger brother, Darren, was born 10 years later.
Paul was brought up to be a law-abiding citizen. He was not a hooligan and he was not a drunkard.
Paul had a close relationship with his cousins and enjoyed family holidays to Butlins. It wouldn't be just our house, though - it would be nan, granddad, aunts, uncles and all our cousins. We would book the whole row of chalets and Paul loved the fact that all his family were together. These were good days, happy days.
Paul's nan wanted him to become a priest, so, to please her, he became an altar boy for a few years, together with his cousin, Gary, at St Peter and Paul's church. His nan was Liverpool-mad and Paul developed the same passion. He couldn't believe his luck when his dad, Jimmy, took him to Rome to see the team play.
His mum and nan were the most important people in his life. When his grandfather died in 1985, he could not bear to think of his nan on her own. He was torn between the two women he adored. He wanted to be with them both so he shared his time between the two houses. This was just fine for Paul because he would be spoilt rotten in both homes.
After finishing his time at St Kevin's High School, Paul began a plastering apprenticeship. He loved his work and was proud of his achievements. Paul loved treating his mum. Every Friday, he would come home with her favourite sweets and pay for her to go to the hairdressers. He used to tell her: "One day, everyone will know my name. I will be famous and I'll buy you a big white house."
His mum was meticulous about cleaning, but Paul would pay no heed. After work each day, he would come home, straight into the kitchen, wrap his arms around Mum, kissing her head and swung her around like a rag doll. There would be plaster and dust flying off him and we would be laughing so hard we could hardly breathe. That was typical of Paul. He would brighten up a room just by walking in.
Paul was always a joker. He had such a crazy laugh. He would pretend to be a horse and his nieces, Tori and Katie, would take turns getting rides. Tori had an imaginary dog and Paul would often pretend to be taking the dog out for a walk. Tori would be fuming, shouting at him to leave her dog alone and Paul thought this was hysterical. He was a terrible torment. The kids adored him.
Paul was very protective of his sisters, Donna and Michelle. He would even walk into the classrooms and say he was checking his sisters were OK.
When his mum became pregnant with Darren, he used to put his head on her tummy and he always said: "It's a boy and we are calling him Darren".
Paul enjoyed fishing, he enjoyed darts and snooker, but his passion was football. He loved Liverpool.
On Friday April 14, Paul finished his apprenticeship. It was a proud day for him. He was to start his new job on Monday, a day that never came.
On April 15, our world fell apart. He came home on his sister Michelle's 21st birthday. She no longer celebrates that day.
The night before his funeral, all his friends slept on the living room floor to be near him one more night. We had a double funeral with his friend, Carl Lewis. People say the streets were lined and they couldn't get into the church.
The street he lived in with Nan was renamed Carlile Way at the request of the neighbours. He was a loved and respected part of his community and they wanted to make sure he was never forgotten. The loss of Paul has devastated his family. His mum, dad, sisters and brother.
Before he was taken from us, he had a chance to meet his nieces, Tori and Katie, and his nephew, Ritchie, was seven months old. Paul now has a nephew, Adam Paul, and nieces Emma, Olivia, Lydia and Faye and our new baby, Mason Paul.
We talk about him every day. We miss his laugh, his handsome face and his enthusiasm for life. Paul was the blue eye in our family, our number one. He still is.
He had a simple life: he loved his family, his friends and his football. We don't know what Paul's dreams were. I guess he thought he had a lifetime to fulfil them. He was 19. His life was only just beginning. He didn't get the chance to fall in love or hold his own child in his arms.
People say time heals. It doesn't. You simply learn to live with your grief. We haven't been allowed to heal. We just want some answers that may give us some peace.
He did nothing wrong that day. He went to watch the team he loved and came home to me in a coffin. Our pain will go when we are with Paul again and hold him in our arms.
Rest in Peace