Nickolas, Nick, Nicky, Pa, Goombah, Paisano, Mr Buoniconti - all names that mean the same thing to us - Dad. When getting my thoughts together to write this one thing came to mind - passion. Dad was passionate about a lot of things in his life and gave us memories of him that we will never forget.

Dad was born and raised in Somerville; we went there often as kids to see family - Nonnie, Pa, aunts, uncles, cousins, nephews, nieces and friends - “down the house”. DiNitto’s market was nearby and we would go there to get bags of candy so large that Mom would throw most of it away once we got home and I watched Pa make sausage in the basement - I know now where the saying “how the sausage is made” comes from (one of the reasons I’m vegan today). It was in Somerville as a child that Dad met his best friend, Nunzio Donato. We have fond memories of Nunzio and his wife Ann Marie coming to the house and playing cards into the late hours of the night. We were always excited for them to come visit us and bring us a little gift.

One of dads lifelong passions was music and this was evident at a young age. In high school his yearbook caption reads: “To be another Alexander Scriabin is my aim”. He played the “cordone” (aka accordion) at Somerville weddings as a child, later moving on to the upright Bass. He studied jazz at Berkeley college of music and played in bands around Boston as a young adult. By the age of 16 he was the primary breadwinner in his household thanks to his musical talents. The other day I picked up Dad’s accordion and realized how heavy it is - Dad always had strong arms and hands and would often shake our hands and squeeze tight to prove it! I will always remember the story of his bandmate who got his instrument stuck in the turnstiles on a T platform. Dad’s love for music has been passed on to Jason who played guitar in a band. Mom and Dad were always careful to make sure we had to opportunity to pursue our interests and she made sure Jason was able to attend music lessons in Sudbury while in High School.

While we didn’t go on expensive vacations with Mom and Dad, we had creative ones. Mom and Dad took us camping and to the Alpine slide. These camping trips to the Seabago Lake where Christine and Carolyn would take me around to see the sights at the campground. Mom would pack everything we would need for the trip so it was almost like never leaving the house! Dads love for Mom was evident in many ways - always making sure her needs were met.

Dad instilled a strong work ethic in us. When I was in elementary school he would pay me a quarter for the whole day of yard work. I can still smell his pipe wafting behind him as I followed him around the yard. He spent many years working at the Pamplone music shop in Medford. In the summer, I used to go there with him to help out sweeping the floors. During lunch time Dad would send me to the sub shop down the street to get him a sub for lunch. It was either an Italian sub with salt pepper and oil on it or a steak and cheese NO peppers on it. By this time I was making 10 dollars a day!

One of the lasting legacies of Dad is his woodworking. He made us wonderful pieces of furniture over the years. These include desks, coffee tables and even a china cabinet that I have in my dining room. He was very meticulous about the quality of his work and had many tools in his shop. I remember borrowing tools from his shop and using them for my little projects and model building and if I didn’t put it back in the correct place he would know almost instantly and I would surely hear about it. Dad loved getting new tools and going to woodworking shows. He gave me some of his tools and the wood chisels he sharpened are still as sharp as a scalpel. He took great pride in showing us how sharp they were by using a chisel to shave some hair off his arm. Dad was a great critique of furniture, architecture and artwork. When at parties dad would wander around the place and look at the art and furniture. If I went with him on these wandering journeys he would comment on the quality (or lack thereof) of the pieces.

Food was another thing Dad was passionate about. I remember mom cooking – the food was always never hot enough so he went to the microwave to heat it up. For Dad, food, desserts and candy represented his love for us - he had a candy jar that was always filled with goodies and he would stuff candy in the grandkids pockets before they would leave his house - “don’t give any to your mom and dad,” he would say (as if we couldn’t hear him!). His love of biscotti was insatiable and he started every day with a biscotti and coffee with milk no sugar.

Dad’s fiery personality is something we all will remember - exemplified by a number of different sayings he had. I could always count on dad to remind us to “turn the lights off” when leaving a room and also closing the doors and windows - “You're letting the cold air in!” When we first got a TV with a remote control - I can always hear - “where’s the clicker?”. There was always a cold draft somewhere in the house that had to be blocked with a towel or weatherstripping. Another one of dad’s common sayings is with his grandson Nickolas "You can't be Nickolas, that's my name!”

Dad on the phone was another example of his occasional boisterous personality. When talking on the phone it was a very loud event which could be heard throughout the house. This occurred often on Sundays when he would call his parents/relatives or Nunzio. Often these calls would end with an invitation to come for dinner - volunteering mom to cook for everyone.

We all knew dad loved us deeply. He devoted his life to his family - we saw it every day in his deeds and actions. Later in life when I would call him he always ended the call with “Is there anything you need?” and “Let me know if you need anything”. This occurred even after he was unable to do so but I know he said it to show he cared and loved us. Now dad there is nothing I need - you have given us all the tools to succeed in life and have left us with memories of your love. I will always think of you when I can’t find the clicker or we feel a draft in the house.