We have come to this point to honor the life of my mother, Dahlia Hope Davis—a woman whose love, strength, and unwavering way of life shaped not only my life but the lives of so many who had the privilege of knowing her. As I live and breathe, it’s impossible to fully express the depth of what my mother meant to me, but I will try, as best as I can, to capture a fraction of the steadfast woman she was.
Born in Mount Carey, St. James, Jamaica, my mother was a proud daughter of 12 siblings. Her roots there was deep, and she carried those roots with her wherever she went. She instilled in me the value of hard work, perseverance, and the importance of family. She was a woman who would stop at nothing to provide for those she cared for and loved. She made tremendous sacrifices throughout her journey.
She came to Canada in 1969, alone, with a dream of building a better life—not just for herself, but for the people she left back home. She worked tirelessly to support me and her family in Jamaica, and to ensure that everyone had what was necessary. She was a fierce provider, and there was no challenge too great for her.
She worked and studied to earn her status as a registered nurse. For many years, my mother dedicated herself to working at Baycrest Hospital and other institutions, as well as serving as a city clerk, always with compassion and care. She didn’t just go to work; she made an impacted difference. She treated every patient, every colleague, and every person she encountered with kindness and respect.
She loved adventure and had a passion for sports cars. But what stood out most was her determination. She set out to purchase her first house in Brampton on her own while I was by her side, and that house became a symbol of her hard work, independence, and belief that nothing was impossible.
My mother played a pivotal role in bringing much of her family to Canada, giving them the life-changing opportunity to build a brighter future. She was the pinnacle within the family, a constant source of support and strength. Her tough love was unwavering, a constant force pushing us forward. She never let us forget how deeply she believed in us and how fiercely she wanted us to succeed. She worked relentlessly, often sacrificing time at home to provide for us. Yet, no matter how busy she was, her home remained a sanctuary—a place where family and friends always found refuge, comfort, and the warmth of her unwavering love.
Over the years, she gained the respect and admiration of many, including her colleagues and friends during her years of service as a nurse. She was fiercely stubborn, relentlessly determined, and never afraid to speak her mind—qualities that made her an unstoppable force. She lived boldly, unapologetically herself, and that’s exactly what made her so extraordinarily special.
While my mother wasn't deeply religious, her belief in God was an unwavering compass, guiding her through life with strength and grace. Her Jamaican heritage was the heartbeat of her identity (Jamaican to the core as we would say), pulsing through every aspect of her being. Yet, she carried within her a profound respect and curiosity for other cultures, embracing the vibrant tapestry that makes Canada a haven of diversity so rich and beautiful.
My mother passed away with family by her side, just as she lived—surrounded by love and knowing she had given so much to all of us. She will be missed by everyone who came into her life, and the lives she touched will never be the same. Her legacy of love, hard work, and determination will live on in all of us who had the privilege of knowing her.
Rest in peace, Mother Dearest. You will always be a part of me forever.
Until we meet again
Your loving son Delroy Anthony Miller.
