My dearest Dom, you will be sorely missed as my husband and wonderful father to our children. I so enjoyed your sense of humor and great stories about life in Niles, Ohio. As your wife of 65 years, we have such wonderful memories which I’ll treasure forever. Loved you then and will always love you dear hubby.

I’ve struggled to know where to begin in talking about my Dad.  So many emotions, so much to say…how could I ever express and capture the essence of who he was and what he meant to me in a couple of paragraphs. 

My Dad was the most generous, caring person with a great sense of humor and an infectious laugh.  He could spin a story better than most and boy did he have a lot of incredible stories.  Whether he met you last month or grew up with you on the streets of Niles, he treasured your friendship equally.  He didn’t see “color or class” and he would give you the shirt off his back, and blessed me with this same sense of generosity and volunteerism that has shaped the woman I became. I strongly believe it made me a great wife, mother, daughter, sister, and friend.

There’s no doubt I am “my father’s daughter” from a physical resemblance (thank you Lord for getting my Dad’s fantastic head of hair!). But for those of you who knew my Dad, there is no doubt that he passed along so many other remarkable characteristics and traits that I have embraced my whole life: witty, jovial, a sense of fairness, deep love of family and friends, Italian cooking, the value of an education, love of red wine, a strong work ethic, football fanatic, good sportsmanship, competitiveness, a sense of community, a gambling bug (“but don’t go overboard Angela!” he would say), a sense of giving back and volunteering, the ability to plan a good party, and the list goes on and on!!!

From the time I was a little girl, my Dad made me believe I could do anything I put my mind to.  He made me feel self confident and instilled a sense of “whatever you do, give it your all”!! Many people thought his old world Italian ways would never allow him to let me “go away to school” when it came time for college, but nothing could have been further from the truth.  He encouraged me from a young age to explore new and different horizons in pursuit of my education. Don’t get me wrong….my Dad and I butted heads at times as we were both so much alike!!! My Dad was a firm disciplinarian and there were times I felt that wrath (my brothers would tell you not as much as them….and that I got away with a lot haha) but I have to say he was always fair and took the time to make sure you understood a “life lesson” in each situation.

I cherish the many wonderful traditions we grew up with and have embraced them with my family.  I can see how my children treasure and value these same things and how their Papa instilled such a heartwarming spirit throughout their lives. My Dad was the life of the party, would talk to a stranger like he was his best friend, loved to eat, made friends wherever he went, went out of his way to help someone out, and loved to chat it up with all the little old ladies.

My one regret is I never got the chance to take my Dad to Italy; but I will make that trip, I promise you Dad and I know you will be with me in spirit, enjoying every last glass of vino! You are in my heart always and forever….Angela

As I reflect on my father’s life and our relationship, it became clear the blueprint he left for me.  The memories that flood my heart since he has passed are soothing to my soul.  My father was an active, present influence my entire life.

As a young boy my father was a disciplinarian.  He was tough but fair.  He had his rules and you followed them.  I didn’t always follow the rules and experienced my share of punishments.  My dad would always explain what I did wrong and then send me to my room.  He would give me time to think about what I did.  I would prepare my defense and present my case when he came back.  I didn’t win many cases, but a few times I was able to soften the punishment.  That meant I avoided the paddle.  You see, my father was Old School !!  He taught me to be responsible for my actions, be accountable.  He taught me to stand up for myself if I thought the punishment wasn’t fair.  My father raised me to think for myself. 

As I became a young adult my relationship with my dad became more like a mentor.  I was in my 20’s and I thought I knew everything (HA-HA).  As my father, he would tell me what to do.  Now, he would guide, letting me make my own decisions.  My dad would always tell me that actions speak louder than words.  My dad was REAL !!  What you saw is what you got.  He was a loving and active father growing up; and he knew it was time to release the reins.

As I matured in life through my 20’s and 30’s, my dad was like a safety net.  I knew my dad was there anytime I needed him and his knowledge.

As I became a husband and father, my relationship with my dad became something new.  The day my dad told me about his Florida train trip, was the day our relationship became a friendship.  Stories from his life became a norm anytime we would see each other.  How I loved talking to him and hearing about his life experiences.  My dad was a great storyteller!

My son Dominic is turning 21 this June, and I see myself releasing the reins.  Thank you dad for the blueprint, the foundation.  See you again my father, my mentor, my friend.  

I love and miss you
Lou

As I reflect back on the life of a special man I have known and admired for over 35 years, I believe I clearly understood him at his core and know why people were always drawn to him.  He was a welcoming and compassionate Italian American that never met a stranger or judged anyone by their ethnicity, color of their skin or their financial net worth.   He had a special place in his heart for the common man, and clearly knew the difference between a handout and a hand - if you needed help he would be at the front of the line to provide it.  Everyone loved Dom.

It was clear from the first time I met him that there were four “Fs” that defined him; “Food”, “Family”, “Friends” and “FOOTBALL”!  This man was a creature of habit and nothing was ever going to change him. The sauce was “red”, the socks were “white”, the dressing was “Italian”, the pasta “100% durum semolina”, the ice cream “Neapolitan”, the sport shirts “must have a collar, a left front pocket and no banding around the sleeves”, the peppers were “HOT”, the wine “Carlo Rossi” (by the gallon), the food had “garlic” and “hot pepper seeds” (on EVERYTHING) and the amount of food available was always “double what anyone could ever eat”.   

From the minute you stepped in the front door of the house on Lombardy Street there was an overwhelming sense of familiarity and warmth that drew people to him and his wonderful family. Dom knew everyone, and everybody in town was his friend. His personality, giving attitude, and care for the community were staples of the family he built, and most assuredly won’t fade with his passing.

This man will always be remembered in the ways he taught us all to live our lives and treat others.  He can rest in peace knowing he lives on in the hearts and souls of all is children, grandchildren, friends and former students.  We all carry a little piece of him with us every day and for that we will all be better people and this world a better place.

I’m nervous.  I’m meeting the parents of my boyfriend, Lou Patrone. We are getting serious and meeting his parents will be important in our next step.  What to expect?  Will they like me?  Will I like them?  

We pull up, I’m trying to calm my nerves.  We walk in the house and I meet the warmest, most kind, most genuine people.  Dominic Patrone is his dad, but it could be my dad, I feel like I’m home, what’s happening? Dominic Patrone is warm and welcoming, like I’ve known him all my life.  He has an easy smile and a jovial laugh.  He is offering me a variety of drink choices, asks if I’m hungry (of course), tells funny stories, I feel like I’ve been here all my life.  What a joy of!  It is more than comfortable, it’s cozy and fun, and feeds my soul and my stomach.  The food was love on a plate.  I hit the lottery! I’m home. 

Years later and the same sentiment still holds.  Dominic Patrone was an amazing father-in-law.  He welcomed me with open arms, was supportive, kind, generous, fun and funny.  The adjectives are endless. 

I will forever cherish my time spent with Dominic Patrone and feel lucky and blessed to have had so much time to enjoy my father-in-law and friend.

Papa loved to have his family around and made sure we knew it every time we saw him. There’s no doubt he loved to spoil his grandchildren, and memories from that quaint house on Lombardy street are filled with “mangia” (eat in italian), repeated calls to “grab a pop”, and “there’s some ice cream in the fridge”. No matter which option you chose, it always came with his patented pinch on the cheek, a pat on the back, and more often than not a “get me one too”.

He loved to share - no matter the occasion. Whether it was the countless stories he serenaded/ regaled you with, the brown paper bags filled with homegrown fruits and veggies, or the labor of love that was his mostaccioli and meatballs, you always left the house a little better off than when you entered. He was also a great listener, always lending an ear wanting to know how things were going, and never missing a moment to share how proud he was of me. I loved that no matter the topic or how good or bad things were going, you could count on him to close with “If you need anything, you just give me a call”.

We bonded over a love of sports, and the values and life lessons that could be learned and shared through them. He was a man of humble beginnings who cherished the value of an education, and I admired his passion for teaching and coaching and the positive impact he had on so many. Looking back, it’s clear now that he was always teaching - whether in a classroom, on a football field, or just sitting in his favorite chair in the living room.

He was no stranger to a good time, with a one-of-a-kind laugh that could light up a room. I always appreciated his knack for finding the joy that little things in life could bring, and hope that I can embrace it as much as he did . As the only grandfather I ever got to know, I’ll miss him dearly, but will look back fondly on the good times we shared together. Rest in Peace, Papa.

I spent most of my life thinking I was a spitting image of my mother (thanks to my own perspective along with every other human on the planet’s as well), but it wasn’t until I became an adult that I realized everything I got from my mom…I got from my grandpa. And as I’ve gotten older, I have appreciated that connection more and more. We are hardheaded, loud, passionate, with tan freckled arms, but most of all we love hard. I learned everything about loving myself and my family from my grandpa. His ability to connect with each person on an individual level fostered my love for people, not only just my family but every human in the world. And for that I am immensely grateful. I am who I am because my grandpa existed and there will forever be something missing in my life because he is gone.  

My favorite memories are echoed by my brother, my cousin, my uncles, my mom, and every other person that knew my grandpa. It always revolved around food and/or drink. “Pop” turned into beers as I got older, but the stories stayed the same. My love of sports, gambling, and all things in between came from sitting on the couch or watching my grandpa fill out his picks each week before he headed off to Vegas. I think my parents always thought I would turn 18 and move right to Vegas. I never did, but the thrill of gambling (and hiding all my winnings) still burns inside of me. My whit, humor, one-liner jabs, and ability to convince you of anything came from years of listening to him around the kitchen table. I love to tell people I’m Italian thanks to that crazy guy they called Dom. He was always so proud to be Italian and I’m thankful his recipes will live on with us forever.  

Grandpa was stern and a little old school. He would probably be a little confused and not understand parts of the person I am today. But there is no doubt in my mind that his love for me was unconditional, intentional, and eternal. He was always so proud of me with everything that I did and always made me feel like the most important person in the room. I guess being the only granddaughter will do that to an old man. I know this world is such a better place because of the way he lived and I can only hope to be half the parent, spouse, grandparent, friend, and loving human he was.

I feel like I had a great perspective of my grandpa being the youngest in the family when it came to holidays and visits.  My best example of this would be during Christmas time.  While everyone else would be preparing food, finishing gifts, running errands, etc.  I usually would end up sitting with grandpa in the living room.  After about 10 minutes of Bonanza, he would turn to me and tell me “don’t be bashful, go get a pop”. After I had done this, I knew the stories were coming.  The amount of stories he had to tell me almost seemed endless.  I was a quiet kid and didn’t say a whole lot, even around family, but I never felt I had to with him, he knew I was listening and just seemed to know what I was thinking and feeling, I was always comfortable with my grandpa.  At the time, the stories were great ways to pass the time and great quality time with my grandpa before it was time for my favorite meal of the year, his spaghetti and meatballs.  However these stories have taken a new meaning for me.  They remind me of the full and amazing life my grandpa lived, and how he had more stories than most people could hope for in 10 lifetimes.  It reminds me to get out and live my life, and that if I can even have half as many stories as my grandpa, I’ve lived a full life.  

As with all my family, it was difficult when I got the news.  I went through all the stages of grief and it is never easy.  However, this was a bit different.  There was not another person on the planet that loved his family more than my grandpa.  While I’m not one who has been prone to experiences I can’t explain, I had a feeling overcome me in the weeks following the news.  Nothing crazy, but for a reason I can’t explain, it felt like I had someone with me, watching over me.  I felt like maybe I was just dealing with the grief in a new way, but I was strangely calm, without the usual anxiety of life.  It felt like I had a friend next to me at all times.  The only way I can explain it and what feels right to me is the fact that my grandpa loved all of us so much, that there’s no possible way it was going away, even when he physically was not with us anymore.  My grandpa’s love for me made me experience sorrow in a whole new way, realizing that I was so grateful that life had given me someone who loved me so unconditionally and fully, that the fact that I got to have him for 20 years, was a blessing.  I don’t focus too much on the negative, even though sometimes I can’t avoid it, because the fact that I got so many years with such an amazing person, is one of the beautiful parts of life, and I need to appreciate the time I had with him.  I know the last thing he would want is for me to limit how much I was living because of the sadness, and to focus on the positive, even in the worst situations.

He is the reason I have such an amazing family, the reason I know how much family means, and the reason I am in such a good place today.  I know now that instead of being far from him physically and not being able to fully communicate with him, he is always right by my side, getting to see my whole life play out.  I am reminded of him in everything I do.  I could talk about my grandpa for about 20 pages, that’s something I’ve realized recently, but I’ll start to wind down here.  I am going to miss my grandpa, a lot, for the rest of my life, but I am going to appreciate and love the time I got with him a whole lot more, because I know that’s what he wants.  I’m happy to have him along with me for the rest of my life and I hope I can look back one day and say I loved, lived, laughed, and most importantly, ate, like my grandpa.