Essay on My Father My Hero

A hero is someone who gives of themselves selflessly until they have nothing left to give. They reveal themselves in the hardest of times, not for fame, glory, or money they do it because it is in their very nature. It's been often said that not all heroes wear capes. I know this to be true because my hero was and will always be my dad. He happened to wear a badge.

Growing up my dad was always there for us and no matter how tired he was he never showed it. He never brought the outside world home. There he was just dad and there was nothing he couldn’t do. His “dad powers” and energy knew no bounds. Rescuing my brother from a tree he climbed a little too high in despite his own fear of heights or teaching me how to ride a bike and so many other things. But he and that bike have to be one of my fondest memories. I had just gotten a bike for Christmas. It was a typical girl’s bike, white with pink streamers and most importantly training wheels. I remember myself screaming at him, “Don’t let me go. Don’t let me fall” as he would run up and down the newly paved street holding me up as I, for lack of a better word rode my bike. He ran beside me doing this despite two facts. One I was never going to fall, and he knew it and two he couldn’t ride a bike to save his life. That’s how he was throughout my life. When I needed him he never let go or let me fall. This is what made him a hero to me. Sure he was a police officer but I never really thought about him like that growing up. I never thought of him being anyone else’s hero but my own.

All that changed when he became ill. His voice had become nothing more than a whisper of its former booming self. It was at this time we learned all too late that there was a lump in his throat and it was cancer. Cancer would be his Kryptonite. His body suddenly became frail and his mind wandered. Then just like that, in what seemed like a blink of an eye my hero was gone. I felt like I need to let the world know of its loss of my loss. So, as everyone else does now I made a Facebook post. I posted on a page for LEO families about his passing not expecting much of a response. After all, he retired so many years ago. At first, it was the typical condolences but then as time passed the stories of him and the love for him came pouring in like an open faucet. There were stories of him coming to people’s aid putting their lives before his own, protecting the weak from the strong. Stories of his humor in a tense situation to claim the nerves of a rookie. Stories of how they looked up to him as a mentor, a role model. I looked at all the lives he touched, all the people he held up and didn’t let fall. In a way, my hero was their hero as well. So no all heroes don’t wear a cape. Sometimes they wear a badge and sometimes they just happen to be your dad.