I’ve learned a lot from my dad.
First and foremost, always carry a clean handkerchief.
But I also learned the value of hard work by example every day, and the value of a good laugh and a big smile, and a hug.
I learned that life is demonstrably better when you surround yourself with good food, and people you love.
I learned that when you have compassion and empathy for people, you can make the world better beginning with the circle closest to you and reverberating outward to circles you will never see.
especially, when it was different from his own. There was always a discussion at our dinner table.
My dad and I always disagreed about our opinions of the American people. I’ve always been a pessimist about people and their decision-making seemingly against their own interests, and the interests of their communities.
My dad, however, was always an optimist. He knew people may take some time to get it right, but in the end most people will do the right thing. He always believed in people, in the best in you. Always.
When we were growing up in Miramar my dad was literally a member of the Optimists Club. When my brother and I started to get into sports, my dad became a coach. You may know that my dad never had any interest in sports. It was only when I was in college that I found hidden in my dad’s office a pile of books on how to coach T-ball. Other kids found Playboy magazines hidden in the back of their dad’s drawers, I found books on how to be a little league coach. During the ‘70s when Don Shula and the Dolphins were winning Super Bowls he could care less, but that didn’t stop him from taking me to a Dolphins game for my birthday every year, or taking us to see the Miami Toros games, or the Floridians basketball games, or even from coaching my flag-football team. As a child, going to those games meant everything to me. He showed us that what was important to us, was important to him too.
But we also saw my dad work hard every day. And when he came home from work, he’d spend much of his evenings on the phone with work, or sitting at the dining room table doing his paperwork. We knew by example that work, like any other commitment, was something you did at 110% without exception. We grew up in a fairly transitory South Florida neighborhood. But we never moved. When we were in high school, and then college, we watched as our father was required to train his inexperienced bosses who were half his age. All those year’s growing up in the same house, with the same friends, and at the same schools, we never realized that we had that luxury of consistency because my parents decided they didn’t want us moving around from state to state, and school to school, so my dad didn’t take promotions that required packing up the family and moving to a new town every few years. He sacrificed his own career for us.
My dad spent most of his professional life as a greetings card salesman. Going to work with him in the summers was a real education. Yes, we learned valuable skills that came in handy later, like navigating through the streets of Miami and all of South Florida without a GPS, and how to unload, and importantly, how to pack, a semi-truck. My dad even let me learn to drive a stick shift in an old U-Haul truck at the North Dade Dump! But the real life lessons were observing my dad interact with his clients, and especially his client’s customers, and his fellow salesman (yes, usually at a Woolworth’s or another diner for breakfast or lunch—great stories there, but for another time). My dad’s demeanor, common sense, courtesy and humor interacting with others in the workplace are examples of skills that make me better at my job, and a better person, every day.
My dad never cared about the color of your skin or the accent of your tongue, only whether you were genuine. I remember at a time when racial tensions were high in Miami going to dinners at his co-workers’ and friends’ homes in Little Havana and Overtown without hesitation. I also recall when the first African American family moved into our Miramar Parc neighborhood, and overnight half of the homes had for sale signs spring up in front of them. My dad was adamant, we’re not moving anywhere. “These people worked hard to buy that home, and they have every right to be here. You treat them like anyone else,” he told us, “Color doesn’t mean a thing.”
When I was a teenager I began to show an interest in photography, so when my dad had a business trip to Tampa to install a card department for a new client, he brought me along because he said he needed a photographer to document the work. I don’t know if that was true or if he made it up, but that was my first photography job, and my first airplane flight!
It was really important for my parents that their kids would have what they did not, a college education. So, when my brother and I were in college, my dad moonlighted as a night watchman in a concrete plant after working hard each day. He did whatever he had to make a better life for us, and I don’t think I every thanked him for that. When my mom was ill when we were young, my dad stepped in and got really good at doing the laundry, but I have to say, for someone who enjoyed food so much, he never developed cooking skills!
When you met my dad, his big personality made a big first impression. He’s easily likable, and you became his friend in an instant. But he was so much more than his big personality.
From my earliest memories, my dad was always involved, always helping others, always serving. From working to elect local city council members, to the boy scouts, to simply giving a car away to a single mom who needed it more than we did. Serving his community was always part of what he did. The local blood bank even had my dad on their speed dial.
My parents have taken in so many family members and wayward souls into their home, and their family, that they never really had an empty nest. My dad always had his passion project—Optimists Club, Cursillo, the St. Bart’s carnival, serving as Santa Claus, Knights of Columbus, Mended Hearts. And in each, he committed 110% and left improving the lives of others as his legacy.
For years he served as Santa Claus with a custom made Santa suit, not just for my daughter, nephews and family members, but for so many organizations in the community, but he didn’t stop there, he would speak at mass as Santa about the real meaning of Christmas. 110% always.
My dad always saw the best in others, including those who many of us don’t see at all. While my parents gave my brother and I both guidance and room to grow and make mistakes as teenagers, I was actually jealous of those he helped because my dad spent a considerable amount of his time as a surrogate father, uncle, big brother, advisor and friend to special needs individuals who didn’t have the same opportunities and health I was afforded. He gave so much of his own time to be there for those who needed him most.
He wasn’t perfect, none of us are. But he was a good man, and a wonderful example to me and my brother, to his grandchildren, nieces and nephews and to anyone who knew him well.
My dad taught me that one person can make the world a better place by simply trying their best, by listening intently, by working at it, and that what really matters is not to do something big and visible, or doing something because of the recognition you might receive, but by doing something close to home, that needed doing, simply because it’s the right thing to do.
My dad was never into technology, and never had a single ‘follower’ or ‘like’. In a world where people seek recognition and accolades for doing literally nothing, let Chuck DiComo be your influencer. Be humble. Love outwardly. Always be grinn’n. Be cool in the motor pool, and don’t give a damn if no one likes you.
And for God’s
sake, don’t forget your handkerchief, someone may need it.
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Epilogue:
We lost my dad on June 28, 2024, about three weeks before what would have been his 86 birthday. However, we started losing him six years earlier when dementia attacked his mind and his spirit. I had the honor of delivering the above eulogy at my dad's funeral mass. His spirit was felt as we celebrated his life, and I knew he was smiling and enjoying the moment.
