My Dad was not a perfect man by any means, but he was perfect for us.  I am certain that we have all come away with so much wisdom as a result of him.

There are so many memories I have of my Dad.  I remember being around 8 years old and waiting for him to come home from work so I could sit down to dinner with him.  Watching him eat dinner, waiting for him to leave a little bit on his plate to share with me.  Watching him drink a small bottle of Miller beer and waiting for him to be finished so I could wash it out and pour Tang and pretend I was drinking beer with him.  Those memories are so precious to me. 

I think of you every single day, Papi and I miss you so much.  Sometimes tears come to my eyes as I remember the last conversation we had.  What you said the last time you spoke and how much I wish I could relive those moments again. 

There was so much that I should've said, but didn't.  I'm grateful for having had the opportunity to apologize for all the times that I was not the child you wanted me to be, yet there is a part of me that feels perhaps I didn't say it enough.  I am so glad to have shared so many special moments with you before you left us, yet wish that God would of allowed me one more day to tell you how much I loved you and how proud I was to be your daughter.

I cannot pretend to understand the loss our Mother must feel.  She spent a lifetime with you and even though we miss you, we can't possibly miss you as much as she does. Every night I sit here and look at pictures of you and I can almost feel your presence in the room.  I think of you and can almost hear your voice. 

This all feels like some sort of nightmare that I just can't wake up from.  I thought that I was prepared for you to leave us, because I didn't want you to suffer any more, but I wasn't.   I know that it was your time to go and that I need to find solice in the fact that you are no longer suffering but rather at peace in the Kingdom of God.  I know that it was for the best.  I am aware of it and see the logic behind it, but would someone please explain this to my heart........

I love you Papi.  You will live forever in our hearts.  Until we meet again.

Anilda

Angel Nicanor Pena was born on May 30, 1933 in the Dominican Republic.  The eldest son to Silvestre Nicanor Pena and Edelmira Collado. Angel was a happy little boy.  Angel's mother passed away in 1939 and shortly thereafter his father remarried a wonderful lady named Ana Rosa Nunez.  Ana Rosa raised Angel and his other siblings (Luz and Antonio). Ana Rosa also had other children in addition to those of Silvestre's first wife. Angel married Lidia Nelis Garcia Nunez on June 26, 1954 and they had a total of 16 children together. Several of their children died as infants.  Angel and Lidia raised 12 daughters and 2 sons.  Angel worked with his father in the Dominican Republic until he imigrated to the States in the late 1965.  In 1974, he brought his daughters, Lydia, Delma and Olga.  In 1976, Angel brought his wife, Lidia and daughters Amarilys, Dulce, Anilda and son Esteban to what would become their new home, Brooklyn, NY.  In 1979, Angel and Lidia welcomed their youngest child, Lydia Maria to the world. Several years after that, Adalgisa, Miguelina, Rafael, Janelys, Jacqueline and Nancy arrived and the family was complete. Angel worked as a Line Cook at the PAN AM building in NYC for many, many years. Lidia also worked to help support their family. Angel was an avid card and domino player.  He loved to cook and eat.  He was always quick to invite you to break bread with him and the family. He was a man with a huge heart who would give you the shirt off his back without giving it a second thought.  Angel leaves behind his wife Lidia, 14 children, 37 grandchildren and 23 great-grandchildren.