My sister is my hero because she is compassionate about other peoples needs.
My brother is my hero because he is a mini-version of my dad without the tattoo or the tan.
Daddy is my hero because of the strength and bravery that he shows me.
Stephen Fairclough is MY Daddy. After my stroke, it was hard for me to adjust, especially to the idea of going back to school in a wheelchair. But, my dad encouraged me to go for it, even though I was reluctant. Getting ready and going to school, he pushed me until I could stand on my own six wheels. (My wheelchair has six wheels.) He held my hand while I cried my way through my first nose suction. He is my pusher. He pushes me when he knows I can do something. He pushes me to do it right. When he comes home from a long day of work, he will help me in and out of my chair. He asks me, "Babes, how was your day? What did you do today? What was for lunch?" Once a week, during the summer, my dad would take me to see a movie and then we would eat McDonald's. It was our Tuesday daddy/daughter date.
Mommy is my hero because of the emotional strength she shows me everyday.
I am saying it proud and loud, I love you all. Thank you for your little quirks. Those quirks always help brighten my day.