Mr. Rodriguez was my 2nd dad. I met him when I was 13 when Roxanna & I took our high school entrance exam as 8th graders. He has been in my heart since then. I remember how his jokes cracked him up! His happy spirit was contagious. He would tell a joke about a good cologne called Sigueme Sigueme! He was also extremely generous. One time I was helping Rox with her campaigning for a high school government position. He said we needed a break and took us to eat Cheech's pizza. He was fast though. When he called you to get in the car, you had to be out the door 5 seconds ago. This never changed. Cheech's pizza was my favorite place for lasagna for decades after that. I introduced the place to everyone in my family and so many friends because of him. Before every school year, he bought Rox all new school supplies. I love that he did things like this to show her he loved her and was supportive of her. Mr. Rodriguez bought tickets for Rox and me to see Shakira. It was the 1st concert I had ever been to. He also invited my entire family to have Thanksgiving with his family one year- prob to connect with more Ecuadoreans :) There is no one I know who loves Ecuador more than him! On the night he passed on, I played Ecuadorean music for him all night. I know he was giving that smile that said he was proud of me, and he appreciated it. I cannot wrap my brain around knowing you are gone. I can't imagine a world without your jokes, delicious food, & vibrant personality. I will miss rushing to keep up with you. I will miss you opening the door when I come over. I will miss your teasing nature that always made Roxanna say, "Daaaad." I will miss you saying Rosamaria & all your family's names. I love you Mr. Rodriguez. Thank you for being a role model for me. I appreciate everything you did to make my life better. My mom and brother also love you. Please make some canelazos with my mom as you reminisce about Ecuador & family. I love you forever. 

My dad was a poet and he loved poetry. He would have me memorize poems to present when we would have visitors at our home, even the mailman got to hear me recite poetry. My dad would beam with happiness when I would recite poems he loved. Here is one of his favorites:

Que es el beso, pregunta el mundo,
Que es el beso, preguntan todos, 

Y yo, y yo respondo, el beso es para mi como la union de labios,
que olvidando los agravios, la maldad, y la traicion,
arrancan del corazon , con fuerzas avasalladora,
todo ese amor que se atesora. 

Pues, si el amor es bueno, deja su marca de fuego en la mujer que se adora.

Besa el bueno, besa el malo, 
besa el pobre, y besa el rico.
Besa el nino y hasta el viejo besa, 
y hay quien besa por sopresa, 
para verter su veneno.

Besa de cobardia lleno en la cruz de su fajon el malero compadron,
que vive entre celo y duda, 
lo mismo que besa Judas, 
incubando una traicion.

Besa la mujer perdida al hombre que le a salvado, 
como besa el sentenciado, 
la cruz al perder la vida.

Y si una dama al pasar a un mendigo arroja una moneda,
sin el beso no se queda la moneda que arrojo.

Se da un beso a la bandera, 
que la patria sinboliza,
y este beso se sinteriza la mas ardiente quimera.

Yo, yo jusgo el beso a mi manera, 
y que a ninguno de ustedes mal le cuadra, 
que pa mi, pa mi, no hay beso que mas el alma taladre,
Ni que cause tanto ardor, 
que el que se da con dolor, 
al cadaver de una madre!