This morning I sat on the balcony of my hotel looking out at an early dawn. As the sun warmed me I felt you with me. I felt you appreciating the beauty of the sun streaked sky with me. I could see you in the chair next to me, giving me that familiar smile. I wish I could have heard your voice, felt your hand reach out and stroke the back of my head. I’m glad knowing you’re at peace but I selfishly wish you were still with us. I’m grateful for everything you taught me. I will end the day with some Hector Lavoe and a beer, and feel that familiar smile once more.

Papi ya paso dos anó de tú partida pero para mi tú estás conmigo siempre en mi corazón I en mi pensamientos cada vez que veo a Ryan me acuerdo de ti porque tienes tu misma cara y carácter y es un charlatán como tú dios me dio tu gemelo te quiero mucho tu hija Emily caballo descansa en paz

2 year ago today you left us finally ending your long battle with dementia. At the end we were all happy to see you rest - your battle with dementia took everything you had from you but you fought it until the end with Faith, humility and a smile. I miss talking with you, i miss your voice, your presence, your strength and conviction. You always had this simple way of seeing everything. Things were black and white, things were either this or that, there was never a murky middle ground with you. You spoke frankly but also with empathy, love and consideration. As i look back, feels now like maybe you were the perfect amount of firmness and understanding. You saw the world with the eyes of a builder and a farmer…you could take stock of situations and see how to build upon them and also what was needed to sustain them. You gave great advice - it was always at the base level of the problem without over complicating things. I miss our conversations, I miss learning from you, I miss your special brand of love. I miss you Dad, I pray you are in heaven living your best afterlife and that we are once again reunited when it’s time. All things have a beginning and end - we must be thankful for the journey. I am thankful to have shared so much of that journey with you together.  I miss and love you Dad. 

It has been a year since you left us. I have missed you, I long for your counsel, i miss your large presence on our lives and the void left by your departure has not filled. Your impact and memory has, however, not faded but grown. I see so much of you and your lessons in my daily life, in my children and in what we continue to build. I miss you Dad. Thank you for your many gifts including for always leading with strength, integrity and love. Gone but never forgotten ❤️

Mientras pensaba en lo que quería decirles hoy, pensé en mi padre y todo lo que era para mí, todo lo que el significaba para mí. Pensé en que era un hombre complejo y sencillo. Pensé en cómo después de todo lo que había visto de él, lo bueno y lo no tan bueno, las victorias y las derrotas, no lo hubiera cambiado por nada ni por nadie. No soy suficiente poeta para pintar adecuadamente su memoria, pero te contaré algunas de las partes de él que siempre llevaré conmigo.

Mi padre era un hombre que trabajaba con sus manos. El fue bueno en eso. Muy bueno. Su talento para manipular madera, metal, electricidad, pintura, lápiz y papel, y darle vida a partir de solo una idea en su mente fue algo que siempre me sorprendió y impresionó. A papi le gustaba ese tipo de trabajo porque tenía una energía ilimitada. Ese trabajo lo mantuvo en movimiento. Me imagino que a papi, la idea de trabajar dentro de una oficina probablemente le sonaba como una tortura. Cuando yo tenía 17 años conseguí mi primer trabajo. Bueno, papi me ayudó a encontrarlo, trabajando junto a él. Empecé ese trabajo emocionado y decidido. Quería mostrarle a papi que yo había escuchado las lecciones que me había estado enseñando. Cuando era niño, me había dicho que todo lo que hiciera lo haría con orgullo. No importa si soy un doctor realizando una cirugía o trabajando mapiando un piso, debo hacer mi trabajo lo mejor que pueda, para poder estar orgulloso del trabajo que había hecho. Cuando era niño, me enseñó a no tener miedo al trabajo duro. Cuando llegué a mi primer trabajo, conocí a todos los hombres que trabajaban con mi pai. Todos lo amaban. Todos lo respetaban. Todos lo admiraban. Los detalles son un poco confusos, pero recuerdo que varios de nosotros estuvimos trabajando en una residencia. Yo estaba barriendo y fregando el piso, limpiando después del trabajo que los demás habían hecho. Yo tenía una mirada severa en mi rostro porque estaba concentrado en lo que estaba haciendo. Uno de mis papis compañeros de trabajo se rió, pensando que yo me veía infeliz y le dijo a mi papi: No creo que a tu hijo le gusta trabajar tan duro. Escuché a mi padre responder. Eso es lo que to piensas, dijo el. Se ve así porque se está concentrando y asegurándose de hacer un buen trabajo. Pude escuchar el orgullo en su voz cuando lo dijo. Sentí su orgullo por mí. Gracias, papi, por enseñarme el valor del trabajo duro y el trabajo bien hecho.

Aunque a papi le gustaba ese tipo de trabajo, la verdad es que ese tipo de trabajo puede ser agotador. El sudaba, pasaba frío, a veces mojado durante un invierno en NY, a veces se lastimaba. Al final de un día, tenía que estar bien cansado. Pero papi, al final de su día, al volver a casa cansado y hambriento, se encontraría con hijos pequeños que tenían aún más energía que él. Mi hermanito y yo le rogábamos que nos llevara al parque y que juegue con nosotros. Tan exhausto como debe haber estado, todavía lo hizo. Me recuerdo su sonrisa y este brillo en los ojos cuando hacía cosas así, cuando hacía las cosas que sabía que nos harían sonreír a mi y mi hermano. En el verano nos llevaba a un lago donde pasábamos el día. A mi hermano y a mí nos encantó estar alli arriba. Cuando regresábamos al campamento despues de estar nadando en el agua, envueltos en una toalla, temblando un poquito del frío, hambrientos, pero con sonrisas pegadas a nuestros rostros, ese mismo brillo estaba allí en sus ojos, mientras él sacaba la comida de la parrilla para nosotros. Cuando llego el día que yo logre ser padre, ahi me di cuenta de cuánto de lo que hizo fue solo por nosotros y la sonrisa en nuestro rostro. Gracias, papi, por tu devoción para darme una buena vida.

Mi papá nunca dejó de ser mi maestro. Aunque yo tengo mis defectos, creo que soy un buen hombre. Cuando papi cumplió 55 años, mami le tiro una fiesta. Muchos de ustedes estuvieron allí. Tuve la oportunidad de decir algunas palabras para la ocasión. Aproveché la oportunidad para agradecerle a papi por enseñarme a ser un buen hombre. Me dijo ese no fui yo, dando el crédito a mi madre. Tenía razón en que mi madre me enseñó mucho. A través de su ejemplo, me enseñó que las mujeres son fuertes, que las mujeres son inteligentes, que son formidables. Pero mi papá me enseñó que las mujeres deben ser respetadas. Me enseñó que los hombres no deben tocar a las mujeres con ira. Me enseñó que los hombres deben ser amables y que un hombre debe ser afectuoso con su familia. Me enseñó que un hombre debe ser fuerte, altruista, y generoso. Me enseñó que un hombre debe respetar, debe exigir respeto y que a veces un hombre tiene que enseñarle a alguien que a él se le respeta. Papi me enseñó más de lo que podría decirles en los pocos minutos que tengo. Nunca podré reembolsar lo que papi me dio. En ves seguiré transmitiendo toda la sabiduría que me impartió a mi hijo, y a los hijos de el.

Le nombre a mi hijo Nicolás. Lo llamé Nicolás porque quiero que lleve todas las mejores partes del legado de mi padre. Mi hijo no será el mismo hombre que fue mi padre. Lleva muchas de las mismas cualidades de mi padre, pero será su propio hombre. Mi hijo no será el mismo hombre que fue mi padre porque nadie lo será jamás. Él era único en su clase. Este mundo era mejor por haberlo tenido, y un poco peor después de haberlo perdido. Llevaré lo que me enseñó. Le enseñaré esas lecciones a mi hijo. Le daré al mundo los regalos que me dio mi padre. Estoy agradecido de haber tenido la suerte de tener el privilegio de llamarlo mi padre.

As I thought about what I wanted to say to you today, I thought about my father and everything he was to me, everything he meant to me. I thought about how he was both a complex man and a simple one. I thought about how after everything I’d seen of him, the good and the not so good, the wins and the losses, I would not have changed him for anything or anyone. I am not poet enough to properly paint his memory, but I will tell you some of the pieces of him that I will always carry with me.

My father was a man that worked with his hands. He was good at it. Very good. His talent to manipulate wood, metal, electricity, paint, pencil and paper, and bring it to life from only an idea in his mind always surprised and impressed me. He liked that kind of work because he had boundless energy. That work kept him on the move. The thought of working inside of an office probably sounded like torture to him. When I was 17 I got my first real job. Well, my dad helped me find it, working alongside him. I started that job excited and determined. I wanted to show my dad that I’d heard the lessons he had been teaching me. As a young child he’d told me that whatever I did I should do with pride. Whether i ended up performing surgery or mopping a floor, it should be done to the best of my ability, that I should be able to stand proud with the job I had done. As a child he taught to me to be unafraid of hard work. To relish it, in fact. When I arrived at my first real job I met all the men that worked with my dad. They all loved him. They all respected him. They all admired him. The details are a little foggy, but I remember several of us working in a residence. I was sweeping and mopping the floor, cleaning up after the work the others had done. I had a stern look on my face because I was focused on what I was doing. One of his coworkers laughed, thinking I looked unhappy and said to my dad, I don’t think your son likes to work this hard. I heard my father respond. That’s what you think, he said. He looks like that because he’s concentrating and making sure he does a good job. I could hear the pride in his voice when he said it. I felt his pride in me. Thank you, dad, for teaching me the value of hard work and a job well done.

While my father loved that kind of work, the truth is that kind of work can be back breaking. You will sweat, you will be cold and wet, you may get hurt, and at the end of the day you will be tired. But at the end of that day, coming home tired and hungry, he would be met with young sons who had even more energy than he did. My brother and I would beg him to take us to the park and play with us after he got home from a long hard day of work. As exhausted as he must have been, he still did it. He would smile and have this twinkle in his eyes when he did things like that, when he did the things that he knew would make us smile back up at him. In the summer he would take us up to a lake where we would spend the day. My brother and I loved it up there. When we would come back to the camp site from the water, wrapped in a towel, shivering slightly, ravenous for food, smiles plastered across our faces, that same twinkle was there as he was pulling food off the grill for us. As a father myself now, it took me too long to realize how much of what he did was just for us and the smile on our face. Thank you, dad, for your devotion towards giving me a good life.

My dad never stopped teaching me. While I have my faults, I think that I’m a good man. For his 55th birthday my mom threw him a party right here, at their house. Many of you were there. I got a chance to say a few words for the occasion. I took the opportunity to thank my dad for teaching me to be a good man. He waved off my thanks, giving the credit to my mother. Dad was often selfless like that. He was right that my mother taught me a lot. Through her example she taught me that women are strong, that women are smart, that they are formidable. But my dad taught me that women are to be respected. He taught me that men should not touch women in anger. He taught me that men should be kind, and that a man should be affectionate with his family. He taught me that a man should be strong, selfless, giving, and generous. He taught me that a man should give respect, demand respect, and that they sometimes a man has to teach respect. He taught me more than I could possibly tell you in the few minutes that I have. I can never repay what he gave me. But I will hold on to his legacy, continuing to pass on all the wisdom he imparted upon me.

I named my son Nicolas. I named him Nicolas because I want him to carry all the best parts of my father’s legacy. My son will not be the same man my father was. He carries many of the same qualities of my father, but he will be his own man. My son will not be the same man my father was because no one will ever be. He was one of a kind. This world was better for having had him, and a little worse off after having lost him. I will carry what he’s taught me. I will teach those lessons to my son. I will give the world the gifts my father gave me. I am grateful that I was fortunate enough to have privilege of calling him my father.

Hello everyone, I'm Santiago Caraballo, I am Nicolas Caraballo's youngest son. I want to start off by thanking you for visiting and I want to thank my mother for loving dad for over 50 years and for caring for him so well during the final years of his life. 

I love my father and I miss him so much. I have, however, missed my father for many years now, as his health declined over the last many years, I have had time to come to terms with the finality of our time together and I have had time to reflect upon all the things my father has been to me and to our family. 

When I think about my father's legacy, about how my father will survive through me and through our descendants, I think about the lessons he taught me and which I seek to teach my children now and which I expect my children will pass onto their children and so on and so forth. Lessons like the importance of finding balance in life between success and enjoying today. Lessons like understanding the we are flawed beings, beings that make errors, beings that must strive to learn from our mistakes and seek to right our wrongs. Lessons like the joys that come from family and friendships, the importance & power of your "Word" as a person - of doing what you say you will do. Lessons like being true to yourself, above all others, and how that truth filters into how your challenge yourself in every aspect of life. Lessons like bravery in the face of adversity including having the strength of character to battle based on principal as opposed to the likelihood of victory. Lessons like the equality of all men & women regardless of skin tone, language, religion, sexuality, appearance or any other superficial contextualization. Lessons like the importance of our planet and protecting it through conservation and overall respect for mother nature. There are so many lessons I learned from dad, so many things that are difficult to frame into words. Some lessons that dad taught me were based on the actions he showed me year after year, decade after decade. Things like being a father, a friend, a husband, a counselor and even a drinking buddy. Dad was so many things to me and to others that knew and loved him. As I stand here before you, if I could humbly impart one lesson above all others it would be that perfection does not exist and there is Godly beauty in that fact, that we as people, as family, as friends, as a nation - that we do not have to be perfect to be great - just as long as we are willing to learn from our mistakes, as long as we are willing to work to repair our errors, as long as we continue to devote ourselves to learning day to day from every experience we live - good and bad - we can get stronger, we will learn from our mistakes, we will find the strength when all feels lost, it may take time but there is always a path forward on this beautiful world.

Some will remember dad for other things like his strength of character, his humor, his love of salsa, him as an brother, him as an architectural draftsman, him as a person who could do amazing things with his hands and some in ways that I will never know about. But my father's legacy, the legacy that will live on through me, through my children and through their children, will be all those lessons I mentioned. We will honor dad's legacy by living our lives fully and by making this world a richer place for his presence and by carrying forth the many heartfelt lessons he passed onto me.

May the Father Almighty, shepherd my father through the darkness, may God grant him forgiveness and life everlasting, may God let dad's soul rest in peace forever. Thank you all for reading and for remembering & honoring my father, Nicolas Caraballo.