I’m not sure what to say about my father. I think about how much we all loved him and how he will be missed by so many. I think about what my father did at such an early age- coming to the US to build a family and a better life for himself. I often wondered if I could have done something like that. Leave all I knew behind- family, friends, and go to a country where I barely knew the language. I’m sure it was difficult and scary, but then I think - I don’t ever have to worry about that because he ensured I would never have to. Through his determination, hard work, and love he made sure his family would have the better life he worked so hard for. He then passed it down to us. We were not always thankful, not always grateful either, and many times we didn’t agree with him or see things the way he did, but he was on target more than we were. As adults we realize that, but not when we are kids.I remember my father being very hard working, often working multiple jobs and odd-ball shifts, but he always liked to joke and play around as well. I have a memory of coming home from school one day (I must have been maybe 6-7 years old at the time) and seeing him at the bottom of the stairs. I was so happy to see him at home and not at work that day. He was waiting for me with his arms outstretched waiting to hug me, so- not really thinking- I jumped from the middle (or top) of the stairs for him to catch me. Unfortunately, I landed with my head onto his face and gave him a big black eye. I remember him joking to everyone about it- when they would ask him what happened he would reply that my Mom was mad at him and she gave it to him. I am sure all of you who knew him have many memories of him as well.My father’s last years were not lived the way he would have wanted them to be, we all knew that. He wanted (and could have) accomplished so much more. I know he would want me to thank everyone that was there for him when he needed them. Whether it was a friend that called just to talk, or someone to bring him some of his favorite food, or just to fix the television settings on his remote controls so he could watch his favorite TV shows. I want to thank all my family for all their help and support. I also want to thank all the many healthcare professionals that helped him throughout the years. My father also wanted to especially thank his daughter in law, Hortensia. She gave so much of herself to ensure that he felt safe and received the proper care he needed with the respect and love he deserved. He loved having her there to help ease the burden on my Mom. He enjoyed having little conversations with her in Spanish and they always made him smile. My hope is that his grandchildren will always remember him and one day realize that the reason they have such a wonderful life now is really because of the legacy he put in motion so many years ago. He made the decision to travel to the US and build a better life for himself and his kids, all we did was pass that down the line.

In the past, Italian Americans from Calabria weren't expected to do much more then offer up their backs in doing manual labor. Testa Dura or hard head was typically the only reference made in describing ones head or intellect. Sadly I think too many Italian AMericans didn't achieve all that one was able too because of such low expectation from society outside the Italian community. But my Godfather Luigi Aiello was something different. My parents back in the early 1960's when Luigi was still living in Italy with his new bride Gina, thought so highly of him that they selected him to be my Padrino. Although we have lived across from each other in different states and unfortunately not had the good fortune to meet often, I always kept tabs on what he was up to and marveled at the tributes and complements my mother Giulia Savaglio would lavish upon him in our discussions. While others were busy acting like Goomba's or reinforcing negative stereotypes like on the show Jersey Shores, my Godfather Luigi worked hard getting up the ranks and made management. He sought to contribute to the Italian American community in a positive way. He took to radio and became a likeable public figure. With my own father sadly deceased when I was but 7 years old, I had my Godfather at a distance to be able to look up to as a role model. Regrettably I never shared with my Godfather all that I wished I had taken the time to tell him. But I'm joyed my son got to meet him a couple of times. Likewise I did share with my son all that my Godfather represented and stood for. Luigi Aiello was the best of us. Through how he lived, acted, and conducted himself even from afar, one like me benefited from his example. It's easy to conduct oneself with dignity and honor when things are going well, it's another thing when ones personal life and health is tragically turned for the worse. But again my Godfather rose above. He taught us without saying what it meant to be respectful, virtuous, and courageous. He's a Rocky in the truest sense when one substitutes the boxing ring for the ring of matrimony and family life. Thanks Gigino for honoring me with being my Godfather. We may not have lived across the street, but your spirit reached me in life, and now in death, I'd like to think that along with my dad, your up there looking after us all. Peace and love il mio padrino.