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Posted by in Encouragement | 8 comments

My Hero

My Hero

This is the third post in Ruth Synder’s Writers’ Blog Hop. This week, it’s a character sketch about our hero. My hero is my dad. I wanted to share a little about him and how he impacted my life. 


My new life

I stared miserably through the car window. Thick grey fog danced around us.

My dad’s face gazed rigidly ahead. He looked like he was getting ready to take a photograph.

My mother sat gloomily beside him, mouth formed into a frown. Next to me in the back of the beige Morris Minor car sat my little sister. Her eyes roamed over my body like a revolving yo-yo.

So, this is England and my new family I thought. I tried hard to fight the tears from filling my eyes.
We were on our way to my new life with a new family I didn’t know. I pined for my other sisters and grandmother I left in Jamaica. The family I desperately missed.

My mind raced back to visions of the fiery afternoon sun. Me running barefoot on the sandy beach. Memories of laughter echoed around me, as I daringly tried to climb the coconut tree in my auntie’s back yard. That was three weeks ago.

Now here I am, thousands of miles away. A teenager wrenched away from the bosoms of home comforts.


My hero

That was my first day in the UK. The day I met my mum and dad. They left Jamaica when I was four.

My dad, Franklin, was a good-looking, quiet, humble man. He stayed at home a lot when he wasn’t working. Sometimes I would go door knocking with him, when he did his Jehovah’s Witnesses’ rounds.

My relationship with my dad deepened quickly. He became my best friend. I was able to talk to him about anything.

He had a strange sense of humour. My dad used to burp after eating his meals. He’d look at me, then at my sister and say, “Excuse me. It’s the beans.”

We would reply, “Which beans?”

“The human beans.” It became a pattern with him. But we always laughed at his weird jokes.

Another classic one was, “Forgive my friend for being rude. It wasn’t me. It was my food.”

He was my support after I left home to have my family. I called him for advice many times. He always had a wise word for me. No matter what I was going through. If it meant him coming to London from Birmingham to sort out disputes, he’d be there.

In my second marriage, he gave me away by saying, “June, I’m giving you away again. Please don’t come back.” He was the highlight at my wedding reception. My dad was the best dancer on the floor.


Gone too soon

Sadly, in January 2000 he became ill with prostate cancer. It broke my heart to see him in so much pain. He lost a lot of weight and was half the size he used to be. He was still optimistic during his illness. He told me that he had planned to decorate his house. I even told him that I was going to help him with the decorating.

Unfortunately, the cancer spread. He had to go into a hospice.

I had a phone call from one of my sisters one night, telling me that dad needed an operation. The cancer spread to his throat. They operated and removed his voice box. He wasn’t able to speak after that. My dad lost all hope of living. He gave up.

He died shortly after the operation. I was at his bedside when he passed away. It was one of the saddest days of my life. He was only 68.

I wrote this poem for him. It was read at his funeral:


Gone But Not Forgotten


Only yesterday you laughed and reminisced with us,

Shared your thoughts and life’s experiences.

You watched the seasons changing colours

And gave us joy by being in our lives.


Your light will forever burn on in our hearts,

Brimming with love of the captured memories of you;

The rock that stood so strong and proud,

Full of wisdom, care, kindness and understanding.


The treasured moments shared with you remains unspoilt,

The gentle smile on your face, will never fade.

Memories of you lay scattered everywhere,

Because you were loved by many and adored by all.

I didn’t spend many years with my dad. But the years I shared with him was special and I will always treasure them.


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I'm June, a self-published author, freelance copywriter and blogger. This blog is a mixture of real stories, testimonies and useful advice. Most of the articles here are based on biblical principles. If you have a testimony to share, I would love to publish it to inspire other readers.


  1. June, Thanks for sharing this touching tribute to your dad. It sounds like he was a wonderful father.

    • He was a great dad. And I’m grateful for the time we spent together.

      Thanks for stopping by Ruth. 🙂

  2. There is nothing like the bond between a father and daughter. Thank you for sharing.

    • That’s right Sara. And our bond was strong. Thanks for stopping by. 🙂

  3. June, your dad sounds like a special man, and I’m glad you have good memories of him even though you didn’t have long enough together.

    • Yes he was a special man Janet. I’ll always cherish the memories of him. Thanks for stopping by. 🙂

  4. Thanks for sharing this, June. A colorful, heart-warming picture of your hero.

    • You’re welcome Janice. He was a warm person and a gentle soul. Have a blessed weekend. 🙂

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