Poem On My Father My Hero Novels & Stories

But the happiest of all is my father, who rises from his seat and immediately walks over to wrap me in his arms. Dad always gives the best hugs, but this is different. I feel the way he trembles, holding me so tightly like he’s afraid to let go. My father is the bravest, most wonderful man in the world. I look up to him. He’s always been my hero, and I want to make him proud. And that’s why it breaks my heart to see him so visibly disturbed. He says nothing because he frankly doesn’t have to. If I thought I was scared, I can’t imagine the turmoil he and the rest of my family must have gone through.

My father explained and I got so maddened by his words. I wasn't surprised, my father had always been the selfish, self-centered and greedy type. "Point of correction, don't you dare address my boyfriend as useless because he is better than you both!" I fired at my dad hotly. "Avery! Mind your words," My mom warned me and I rolled my eyes at her.

I shot everything on my mind at him. Dad... It struck me. He was nowhere in the house. It was an obvious situation where one would not even Imagine such a tragedy in their life. Mom was like a broken piece of glass. Everyone was looking sympathetically at them. and Dad, did he? Was he? A strange feeling swept through me like a lightning bolt. When I couldn’t even dare to Imagine such a situation, how was I going to face such a situation was the first thought that came into my mind. my dad, the person whom I admired the most, whom I considered my hero, was no more... Wait!!!... was I over thinking? Was I just over estimating the situation? Nah....Such a damn thing could never happen in my lif

I hugged my dad and thanked him. “ Dad, this is it, all your hard works are paid off” I smiled brought a medal. “ This medal doesn’t deserve a guy like me, these medals belong to the right man,” I said as I slowly put the medal on my father’s neck “ Medals correspond to everyone’s achievements, but for me, these medals correspond to my hero and my saviour. Everyone will leave me shortly but I know that you will stay on my side, you will never leave me, you will always support me.

Because that's what my mother told me: "Your father sacrificed himself to save others." Although my mother never showed me a photo of my father, I firmly believed he was a hero. This belief shattered completely when I was 15. I met my father. He wasn't a hero; he was just a rich man who had abandoned my mother. He lived in a beautiful estate with his wife and children, leading a luxurious life. My mother was like the little match girl outside the shop window, who lit her last match and left this world that had never been kind to her.

And let the future take its course. That was my father's word. His way of motivating us. Himself and everyone around him. It makes tears spring to my eyes when I think of that man I always called my hero. He was my hero until Richard came along, and I fell hard for him. It brings my mind back to another word of his. 'When a man loves a woman, he will do everything humanly possible to chase after, win, love, and make her happy. That was how your mother became mine forever to keep, till death.’

I cleared my tear filled eyes as I walked to the stage to read my speech . " Hello everyone. I'm Riley Essah . I appreciate you all coming out to celebrate the life of my father. My father was an incredible person. He was not only the best role model but he did a lot of voluntary work in his free time. My dad's most notable feature with his height. He was over six feet tall and you would think his towering presence would be intimidating but he was one of a kind and a wonderful person I learnt so much from . In his time on earth he helped so many children through charity events and put smiles on so many faces . One important lesson I learnt from my father was to stand up for myself , to l

I paused, smiling sheepishly even though he couldn't see me, "Well, I just wanted to talk to someone..." "I've been through hell with you always pestering me. Do I have a choice?" I could picture him shaking his head, I couldn't argue with him now. "It's my father's death anniversary..." I trailed off, hiccupping. The other line was silent, so I continued. "I really miss him..." I chuckled bitterly. "He was a good man. A loving and sweet father. I look up to him. when I was a kid I saw him as a hero."

I weeped staring right in his eyes which I could see was also filled with such pain for what I was going through, where his hands were soon on either side of my face again. “I know baby, but you should see what your father did as a heroic act of selflessness, he stepped forward and sacrificed himself to save all of us. What he did will be remembered for generations to come where everyone will see him as the hero he was.” He said attempting to make me see the positives, but in that moment, I realised there was someone else going through this.

But the happiest of all is my father, who rises from his seat and immediately walks over to wrap me in his arms. Dad always gives the best hugs, but this is different. I feel the way he trembles, holding me so tightly like he’s afraid to let go. My father is the bravest, most wonderful man in the world. I look up to him. He’s always been my hero, and I want to make him proud. And that’s why it breaks my heart to see him so visibly disturbed. He says nothing because he frankly doesn’t have to. If I thought I was scared, I can’t imagine the turmoil he and the rest of my family must have gone through. “My pride and joy,” he murmurs. “Welcome home.”