Kyle Sermersheim

He raised me from the time I was knee high to a grasshopper. Only a single father with disabilities while raising two kids could have the drive and determination he did. This man was not perfect, no more than you or I.

With three mouths to feed and bills to pay, work ethic was kind of his "thing". No matter what - rain or shine, sick or in good health, he was on the job doing things right. Punctuality, quality, and efficiency were things he valued as a businessman. No typical suit and tie though. My father came home dusty and tired, laboring through his pain from Multiple Sclerosis. Though he was disabled in more ways than one, my father is my hero and is the only man capable of being called my dad.

We didn't have it all and still don't, nor did we need more than what we were given. Dad taught us to be grateful for what we were provided with; giving us all he could and then some was more than enough to make me appreciative. Our house was cozy and our yard was huge. He placed a high value on his land as we did too; it was our stomping grounds. No neighbor kids to run with, simply a child's imagination and her brother. We learned quickly to take care of ourselves because mom left on short notice. Independence was one thing he taught us without even having to think.

A royal flush was never the hand Dad was dealt, but boy was his poker face something to reckon with! Having his eye mistakenly shot out on his 17th birthday, he faced severe migraines the rest of his life. Still a grin on his face? OF COURSE. A short time later in his early 20's he was diagnosed with a chronic and progressive illness: Multiple Sclerosis. Normally a devastating prognosis, Dad simply went through life as if he'd never known, big cheeser and all. As previously mentioned he divorced my mom shortly after learning about his illness. Knowing he would never live a full life, he lived every day as if he were dying and smiled as if he never would again.

Thankfully he did not go out with shame but with a bang. November 24, 2010 his life was taken in the gas station parking lot. I watched, horrified, as an ignorant man backed out and knocked him down. Making a two-point turn with my dad under the body of the car, the man ran him over. I won't forget it, but everything happens for a reason. Each day I am thankful for the man I call Dad. He, by definition, is my true hero.