MY TRIBUTE TO MY HERO DAD
One of the things that each of us must face at some point in this thing called life, is its end. Many of you are aware that my dad, Mr. Michael Egwu Ali, has always been my hero. He was my hero not because of what he did, but because of who he was.
My hero passed away on June 29th of this year, quite unfortunate that of all the time he has been sick, he didn’t pass away but just a day after I concluded my final year exams; to have a good rest that the news of his demise gripped my loins.
I had always planned to speak a tribute to my dad whenever the date finally came. I did so, and I can tell you that it was the most difficult talk I have ever given.
I thought I’d use this forum to share my talk with you, both as a tribute to my Dad, and to offer a few thoughts for you to consider about what it means to live a truly successful life.
I began by telling the story of the wise man living at the outskirts of an ancient village. The message of the story is that you are going to find whatever it is you’re looking for. I then continued…
“I wanted to tell you that story because of what my Dad, the man whose life we are here to honor and celebrate today always looked for in his life. He always looked for the good and the decent. He looked for the upside, the open door, the opportunity, the possibility. He taught me that anything in life could be figured out…anything was possible. He gave me and everyone else the benefit of the doubt. He treated everyone with respect.
My hero Dad was a very humble, honest, trustworthy, good listener, opinion seeker and peaceful man, from his family to his extended family and all his in-laws, he maintained peace and mutual co-existence amongst them and all a sundry.
That’s an example of how my Dad lived his life.
In presentations that I’ve given all over the world, I’ve told audiences that my Dad is, always has been, and always will be…my hero, and this is one of the many reasons why. So I thought it appropriate here, as a public tribute, to read to you something/story I wrote 14 years ago entitled, “My Hero.”
Young boys love their “heroes”. Growing up in Fresno, California, I thought John Brody was a great quarterback, but he wasn’t “it”. John Kennedy was pretty cool, but he wasn’t it. Movie stars, rock stars, teachers, coaches, professional athletes…all offering their role models, their “greats”- but none came close to my hero. Mine really had it together. He was strong. He was incredibly smart. He could do anything. He wasn’t a poster hanging on the wall, or a card that came with a pack of stale gum. I actually got to spend time with my hero. Lots of time.
As far back as I can remember, I’d tag along into his garage, where he’d always let me “help”. I’m sure I made more mess and caused the project to take three times as long, but he never let me know it. As I grew a little older, we made many trips to Yosemite Nursery, where I’d fantasize about great landscapes, awesome vegetables, and spectacular flower gardens. And then there were those countless hours riding together in his Ford F150 Long Bed…talking about everything that was important to a six, or ten, or fifteen-year-old boy. Despite working two jobs, he took time to throw the football, go on Boy Scout camping trips, listen to me play the drums, and was genuinely interested in my homework. He was always there when I needed him. Always cheering. Always believing in…me.
Everyone admires “greatness”. Some dream about it. Others are inspired enough to actually pursue it: you know…a life overflowing with everything that’s good, wonderful, and important. I grew up with it. I knew it. My hero taught me that I could be anything I wanted in life…if I wanted it badly enough. More than that, he proved it to me. By example. Through his patience. With his love. And by his incredible commitment to my mom, my sisters, my brothers, and to me. He was my dad. I was his son. Nothing else in the world really mattered.
And now, at my age now, I’m still inspired by his greatness.
Dad, you taught me that the world is beautiful enough to try and figure it out. You’ve consistently given me the greatest gift I could’ve ever had- yourself. Because of you, I am blessed with an unquenchable self-confidence and a heart overflowing with love. You still are, and always will be…my hero.
My Dad’s born date I do not know and I do not want to assume it, if I had known it I would have inscribe it on his headstone. Every one of us here has our first date, and every one of us is going to have our second date. But you know, what truly matters in this equation is not the first date…nor the second date…it’s what’s in the middle. The only thing that matters in this equation is the dash. The only thing that truly matters is what we do with our lives between our beginning and our end. As a matter of fact, I have come to the conclusion that the only true measure of the value of a human life is all the good that was done while it was being lived.
My Dad’s life had HUGE value…certainly to me, to my Mom, to my sister and brother…to all of our family members, and I think also to all of you…his friends from square dancing, from work, or from wherever you had the good fortune of having had an association with this incredible man.
He is the finest and strongest man I have ever known. May our most loving Heavenly father grant your soul eternal peace, Amen.
So considering my Dad, his life and everything he stood for, I want to conclude by saying to him, “Dad…well done. Well Done!”
Your last Son
Samuel Uchenna Egwu.