My Hero

When you think of the word “superhero” you think of like…Superman, Batman, Spider man and all those characters right? But that’s not who we should think of…we should really be thinking of policemen, firefighters, and other everyday people just trying to make a difference. These are the people that we should be recognizing; these are the true hero’s in the world. For me, my ordinary everyday hero was my dad...he made a bigger difference in my life than he could have ever known.1

When I was a little girl, I always thought that my Dad had superpowers. He was the strongest to me, because he could lift me high above his head. My Dad could see right through me…he always knew when I was lying, and he could always tell when something was wrong. When tears brimmed in my eyes, he was the one I sought to dry them. He was the most amazing person in the world to me…no one could ever compare. He even had his own arch enemy…my biological Dad. When Michael made me sad, my Daddy punished him. When I had to go with Mike for the weekend, I held on to Sunday, when Daddy would save me. 2

But what happens…when the most amazing thing in a young girl’s life is ripped away? Right after my 14th birthday, I was at a church camp. I got a call…and I’d found out my Dad had died. A huge chunk of my heart was lost that day. I no longer had someone to run to; someone who would save me from anything that could possibly hurt me. My concrete wall, my superhero…had left me. I didn't’t know how to react…I couldn't’t understand why he’d left me, when he had told me he’d be there for me forever.3

In the years since then, I have come to understand the events that have happened. My Daddy didn't’t want to leave me, anymore than I wanted him to leave. I understand that now. And even though I thought for so long that I couldn't’t go on without my dad by my side, I know I can. Because he’s always here...as long as I keep a place in my heart for him, he can live…through me. Time has taught me, that physically, my dad was no more a superhero than you or I. He was just…Dad.4

Even though my Dad is gone, I’ll always look up to him. He's shaped who I am today. Sometimes I think I hear him, but it just turns out to be someone that had his same, thunderous voice. I might see someone whose hands resemble his, those strong hands that I had sought for comfort when I was crying. My dad was strong; he was my brick wall. As long as I stood beside him, I was invincible, nothing could have hurt me. He was my superhero.5