A Hero's Birthday

On April 6, 1923 Louis Melanson was born into this world to Jerome and Anna Melanson. 53 years ago he became my father and today we will be celebrating his 86th birthday by gathering around the kitchen table with family.

I tried to write something just for him here today and the words just wouldn't come out of me so I will repeat the words that were in my heart of this man several years back...



My Hero

As we travel through out our life there are people that we meet that impress us. It could be the simplest thing or a major one. No matter what it is, it is carried with us throughout the journey of our life.

Even though many may influence our lives, there is always that one person that stands out from all the rest. This someone touches you more then all others in your life.

There is one like that in my life. He has been a part of my life since the day I was born. There is not a moment I have regretted him being there. He has been there each and every moment. Watched and waited to see how I handled all that I had to face and even when I didn’t want him there and pushed him away, thinking his help was giving up the independence I so much was fighting for, he was there waiting for me to turn to him for the support that I needed. He has listened and shared all the joys in my life. He has helped me through all the tears and sadness that stood before me. He has watched me cry because I thought my life was nothing any more or that I couldn’t go on alone and life was just being too unfair to me. He has showed me that life is worth living and that for each thing we go through there is a reason for it and that each one of them would give me strength. Even though we may not like the end result of it, it is still my life and I should continue onward to better things.

He encouraged me to continue on with my life and learn from my mistakes. He never judged me because I was not perfect. He never expected perfection from me but what I was capable of and never seen a lesser person because I had failed in something. Failure was a learning process to him.

Some people would think I was crazy when I say that he had this wonderful energy that he shared with me with a simple a touch or a very large hug. It didn’t matter. The energy was there for me and most that was in his life. An energy that kept me from giving up hope on myself or the situation I was in. An energy that I needed so bad at times that I would go and see him out of the blue just to get a hug and a zap of the much needed energy. Energy I am not sure if he knows he has, but if he did, he has throughout his life has willingly passed it on to anyone that was willing to accept it. It was the only strength at times that allowed me to continue on with my life. Times that even he didn’t know what was going on.

His heart is filled with caring and love that he shares with all that he has met through out his life time. He leaves an impression on those that have been privileged to have him in their lives if only for a few minutes or a life time. To see the warm in his eyes, the wondrous smile and the glow that flows from him when he speaks of his passions and beliefs. He is a man that is slow to anger but if it does come to being it is also with great passion and short lasting. And God have mercy on the person that has caused the angry. Not a pretty sight at all.

This man is apart of me. If he wasn’t I would not be here today. Not only because of what he has given me through out my life but he was apart of giving me life in the first place. Out of love I came into this world. Out of love I became who I am. How can one say thank you for a gift that is so perfect to me. He has given me 46 years of his love, caringness, his sharing, thoughts, hopes and dreams. His gentle touch to heal all that ached within me and his firmness to guide me and teach me to be whom I am today.

I watched him on the rare occasion let go of his tears because his heart couldn’t hold them in any more. These tears came more readily as years passed. He allowed me to share some of these occasions with him. An honour not too many men allow others to see, because their beliefs men don’t cry. How silly of them.

I remember the first time I seen his tears in front of people. It was in 1980. It was year that so much had went on in the family. He leaned against the den wall at the door way, I was on the chair closest to him. My mother sat across the room from me and others on the sofa. I am not even sure who the others were. They were not important at the time. It was the year that my oldest sister decided to marry again for the second time but this time not in the church but in front of the justice of the peace. My older sister was taking her final vows for the convent and I was getting married as well but to a non-Catholic. We were talking about the up coming summer and I looked up at my father and saw tears develop in the corner of his eyes. He spoke of his three girls and how they all were moving on in their lived but all in so different ways. “My three girls,” he said “One marrying to a non catholic, another marrying out of the church and the other to the Lord.” I wondered later if he was sadness because we were leaving him behind in some way or out of joy because we were continuing on with our lives to whatever we were going to face with the decisions that we had made. I never asked him this I just believed it was out of joy. But that day I saw my father in a total different light.

Up until that day I saw him as my father and that was all. The man that took care of us, made sure we had food on the table, clothes on our backs, and as much love as he could mustard up at the days end of working at the mill. He was doing his job as a father. But that day I saw a man with a heart. Not because of what he said but because of the tears he let flow without shame or worry that someone would tell him how foolish he was for them because he was a man and that was not allow as I heard so many times before that. That day the way I looked at my father changed and continued to change for years to come until this day.

I was 24 then and what I discovered that day only grew each passing day with this man I love so much.

The saying Dad’s little girl still stands after 46 years of my life. He has been my father, my counsellor, my best friend, my strong hold when I needed him. He has been the man in my life I went to every time I scrapped my knee, needed to talk about anything that was going on in my life, from the greatest joys of my life, to the sadness that tore me apart and needed someone to listen. Broken hearts, my children, my husband, my friends, and a simple or silly thing that was so important to me but nothing to others. It didn’t matter he always had the time to listen to it.

People all have their heroes in their lives. Some are the strangest to the simplest ones. But with me my hero is my dad. There could be no other. He is all that I look for in a person I want in my life, the loving, kindness, caring, gentleness, understanding, patients which there has to be a lot of with me around, the willingness to be who he truly is. No fear to show the emotions that he has developed over the years. These are the things that make up a true man. That is what I see in my father and that is what I want to see in the man I love today.

I thank you today Dad for all that you have given me… all that you have shared with me through out my life…. All the love you have showed so that I may be a loving and caring person… and though it has taken me some time also a stronger person to be able to pass on all that you have given me…. To all those that have entered my life so they may also leave feeling what I feel each time I am with you…


Happy Birthday Dad, I hope it is a great one for you. Love Your Little Girl... Joanne.