On 2 January my father passed away at 63, after a little more than a year fighting (a rather aggressive type of) lung cancer. I won’t go into the details of how it went but let it suffice to say that pain and tears have been our bread and butter.

A little bit of history

My father was an honest and kind man who did everything he could for his family. A big part of who I am today, I owe it to him. Since when I was little he always encouraged me to learn and contributed a lot to my education, ranging from history and science to politics.

He supported my (at the time) crazy idea to pursue my current career (as I graduated in a field other than Computer Science) as he’s always believed in me. My father – an electrical engineer who worked in the world of software development – was more than glad to know that I had developed an interest in programming and supported my early studies. I’ll never forget that time when I was coding my first port of Envy (my first program) to the Python programming language and I was stuck and feeling miserable, almost ready to give up, when he sat down beside me and helped me solve the problem. From that point on, nothing stopped me from learning and from facing any other kind of programming problem, which I always take as a challenge.

The funeral and the support we received

I was really amazed at the warmth of my friends and colleagues, my father’s friends, our relatives and neighbours. Whether through the phone, telegram or in person at the funeral, we felt all the love they feel for us and it was beautiful. We couldn’t have asked for more. I’d like to thank you all.


Despite the tragic conclusion, I can say that I’m a much better and mature man than I was when all this misfortune began. This was my father’s last teaching, how to face your worst fears and how to take care of yourself and of the ones beside you in the face of an adverse destiny. It’s a lesson I’ll never forget.

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