Hey Dad,  
I've been thinking of you.  Your birthday just passed.  I'm find it hard to believe you've been gone for over 6 years.  Sometimes I see you sitting in your favorite chair, watching the news or hockey.   The house always seems empty without you.   Although we didn't say it in many words, I want to let you know that I love you and miss you very much.    

Clara

Hey Dad hard to believe its been 5 years now. The boys have matured to fine young men, Shelley and I are enjoying the new house. Still one of the things I miss is you coming over and wondering what the hell is my son working on now, something tells me your still watching. Love Aldo

Rest in peace Dad. Its been a tough year I keep thinking of those last few days how hard you fought, you had a strong will to live, you amazed all of us. I hope you like what we did to the house I see you there every time we clean up an area, I see how you assembled things and marked it with your intials afterwards. brings me back everytime L.C.Love you Dad.

For me, my father was like the wounded lion with a thorn in his paw in that familiar fable. And I, as his son, was like that timid mouse approaching him cautiously to get close and to help him out. Dad was reluctant to show his vulnerability, to be open and to express his love. He was firm and strong until his final moments. He would show his love and appreciation in his own way. And though I wish I had heard it more often, I realize now from his passing that I had seen it just as much. 


My father's heart, his kindness, and his love was found in his acts of giving, his generosity to all of us. Long ago, I remember how he carefully painted my speed-king wagon with the Italian and Canadian flags. It filled me with pride to ride around the neighborhood and to show it off to my friends. I imagine that my dad must've known this. He gave me that gift of pride for my cultural roots and for having the coolest wagon on the block. For a time, when I was very young, he would bring me home a gift nearly every day. His job allowed him to do so. He worked very hard to keep our city clean. He did the job that people take for granted. The gifts I received, the discarded relics, became new-found treasures in my hands. I know now that his love and appreciation was captured in the thoughts behind each discarded item. I can see him choosing what to bring home that day. I can feel his heart warming at the thought of bringing joy to his youngest son. 


I have also been blessed to see your vulnerability. I shall never forget how you broke down in tears when you stood before your parents grave for the first time. When I saw that, I was deeply moved inside. It hurt to see my daddy in pain. I had never seen you cry before. It would be the only time. 


I also remember well the first episode with your heart and how you didn't want us to create a fuss by calling for help. I saw from my window that you weren't well. Yet you growled at us like that wounded lion. We had to fight through that gruff exterior that was crying out from the inside.


It was, too often, too hard to get to, but I have seen what is behind that exterior. I have seen your playful nature. It would come out in your boisterous renditions of Happy Birthday. (My nephew Mateo will now carry on that tradition as he has your inflections down pat. I may chime in too.) I have also seen your dry, sarcastic wit. I think all of your children have inherited your wonderful sense of humor.


Even though you are gone dad, I still feel your presence. I see it everywhere. I see it in your notes on every little piece of paper in your car's visor, front seat, glove box and trunk. I see it in our home with your initials on everything. I see it with our last name marking your footstool as if someone else would come by and claim it to be theirs. I see it in the formed wall-bumper and the reflective piece of plastic which drops from the ceiling to both align and warn you when you are getting too close when you are parking the car in the garage. Your imprint on our home is everywhere. 


It doesn't feel like you are gone. It feels like you are just in another room. 


And for my mom, who took care of you so well and who surely misses you, I say when you miss him, look to us. For a part of him is within us. Look into our eyes and you will see.


The more I think about it, the more I realize how alike you and I are. I feel dad that I knew what was going on inside you. You carried the weight of your personal hardships and pain for a long time. There were many things left unsaid between us. But I did get to say to you to find peace in your heart when you were in the hospital. I even tried, wrongly, to say it in Italian. Trovi pace dentro cuore. You looked at me when I said it. I can only hope that you heard me.


Sometimes a father struggles to say I love you. Sometimes he can only show you. Thank you dad for all you have shown me. I know what it is now. It is love. Goodbye dad.

Dad was born in Verona, Italy, and was the eldest of 5 children.  He courageously migrated on his own at the age of 22 to start a new life in Canada.  He arrived by boat in Halifax and made his way to Thunder Bay, Ontario where he worked with the Canadian Pacific Railway before making Vancouver his home.   He met mom at a room and board House on Keefer Street. (Back then apparently a lot of Italian immigrants lived at Stella's boarding house on Keefer Street).  Mom always said she liked dad right away when she first saw him, because he was tall, handsome and had curly hair.  They married after 2 years and moved into a rented bungalow, on Keefer Street.    After I arrived, they bought and moved into their first home on 5th Avenue and I remember that house was always alive with friends, family and food.     One of the earliest memories I have is of dad making his homemade wine:  the lively Italian banter of his friends, the sounds of the huge grape press crushing the juicy red grapes, and the potent aroma of the first drops of red wine.   
Dad preferred to be busy and working on something.  If I was exercising he said it was better to paint the house - Instead of jumping around playing “goof”.   In his younger days my dad loved to dance (he was a good dancer).  Dad loved his home.  He loved his cars - He had three cars in his life  - all blue – a 1957 Chevy, a 1967 Meteor and a 1985 Bonneville – which still runs well and my youngest brother is now driving.  
He loved his garden where he grew beans, radicchio, and tomatoes.  He loved to sing (especially at birthday parties) and he had a beautiful voice.  Later in life, even with a bad heart, he loved going for long walks to check out the fruit and specials at Superstore.  He was also a champion at bocce ball – winning several trophies. My father worked hard all his life.  He worked for the City of Vancouver for 35 years where he was honoured for his dedication and long service.  I'll always remember that he was a strong man.  Even when his heart was weak, his will was strong.  He was determined to help carry heavy packages or shovel the snow.  
Dad was smart.  He had a witty sense of humour.    He put everyone's needs above himself.  He wanted to finish the old bread before starting a fresh loaf.  He preferred to wear out his old comfortable clothes to anything new.   He liked everything neat and in its place. Though he may have never said it out loud, I know that he loved us and was proud of us.  It was difficult for him to show his feelings, but I know now he cared for us in his way.  My dad was humble. He was generous and proud.  He was also frail and human.    Sometimes we disagreed, but he was my father, and I loved him. 
He showed strength until the end.  I would like to hold on to and remember everything that my father shared with us and hope that the good memories comfort my heart.  Losing a loved one is one of the most difficult things we can go through, especially when it's a parent. It changes everything.
I remember Dad when he was reaching out to me weak and in pain from his hospital bed.   I held onto his hand to comfort him and told him that “I've got you dad…”  
I've got you in my heart and my memory forever. 
 Da - Ti amo.

My Dad was a very strong willed person, he was a person who always said what was on his mind wether you liked it or not but to me he was just my Dad. As a boy growing up at 5th and Victoria I remember one day Dad pulling up in his big sanition truck and said to myself holy cow Dad drives this truck. Dads work route was on the west end of Vancouver and I remember him bringing home all kinds treasures for us to play with.  

In my teenage & early adult years I didn't get along with Dad very much but I remembered my Mom saying give him a chance your Dad has a good heart. I remember when we moved to Surrey Dad would always come by and help as best as he could. He planted our boxwood hedges in the front yard, started the garden for us every year and would leave watermelons at the front door when we weren't home to greet his visit. He was a man with a good heart, just like Mom said.

My family enjoyed spending time with their Nonno, we all seem to pick up little things from Dad as time passed. Mateo would join in and belt out those Happy Birthday songs  or Giuseppe cleaning off his dinner plate with bread leaving his plate spotless. My wife Shelley learned how to pick out the perfect chestnuts and watermelons. Myself I guess I pick up Dads organization skills, his sarcastic humor and from time to time mimic some of Dads mad words, which I promised my Mom I wont mention now.

My Dad didn't like a lot of changes he liked the simple things in life. I was always amazed Dad only had three cars in his life time (all of them blue by the way). I remember trying to get Dad to buy a new car and took him out everywhere but he always went back to his old car saying there nothing wrong with this car it still runs good. Dad also had this old dirty Milwaukee brewer hat he wore everywhere and despite having several newer hats to chose from he would always seem to wear that hat.

As Dad got older I try to spend more time helping out at with household chores. Dad would always try to help me no matter what I was doing it in his nature. I remember this one time I was lying under the kitchen cabinet on my back trying to replace the kitchen faucet. I was having a bit of a hard time and I might have been cursing a little when I saw this crescent wrench slowly passing over my eyes, it was Dad trying to help me. What he was going to do with it I wasn't sure but it made me laugh.

While Dad was in the hospital the whole family were there day and night. I was very proud of my two boys and especially my Wife who spent long hours at Dads bedside. Near the end I looked in Dads eyes and we both knew it wouldn't be long, I said my good bye's and told him we will meet again. I love you Dad.

Aldo & all of the Conti family,
My deepest condolences for the passing of your father.  May he rest in peace.
My thoughts and prayers are with oyu and your family.
Bob Sterling

Our deepest condolences for loss of your father. Love, Rosemary, Rino and Ella

My thoughts and prayers are with you and your family.

Clare,
Please accept my condolences as well as thoughts of peace and courage for you and your family.

To Rossina,Clara,Aldo,Lino and the Conti family, It was with great sadness when i heard of Nello's passing.My Santolo. Time passes very quickly but the memories stay forever.I remember a long time ago playing in the backyard of your old house up from Victoria Drive with Aldo and Clara and Lino who was just a baby then,while Nello fixed a lawnmower or bicycle with parts he used to bring home from his work.But mostly i remember the parties you guys used to have at different friends houses.The laughter,dancing and singing Italian songs.Nello and my father Bruno,both seeing who could sing the loudest. The friendships were real,and the passion for life and enjoying yourself was something you dont see much of anymore.I will always remember Nello as a kind,caring and gentle man.And funny!!He made me laugh many times with his old world sense of humour and facial expressions.Even now i can picture Nello and my dad sitting in a kitchen somewhere eating paninis and drinking wine and laughing about something or other.My thoughts and prayers are with you.Rest in peace Santolo.    Love Ricardo Zanatta

God has brought him to a better place now where no more suffering is made. RIP Zio Nello .. Your are a strong curagous man. Love: Isabella Iuliano

So sorry for your Lose. Deepest Condolences.
Joe & Doris Escaravage

Dear Rosina, Clara, Aldo, Lino and family,
I was very saddened to learn of the passing of your beloved dad / husband Nello.
I hope he did not suffer near his and end and that his life was full and happy.
Some of my best childhood memories involve your family, truly a special group of people.
I will always remember Nello as a kind man with a funny sense of humour and a big heart.  He was my brother Rick's Godfather (Santolo), and extremely dear to his heart I know.
I want to extend my condolences to your family and very much regret that I will not be able to attend the service on Friday.
Please know that my thoughts will be with you all and I will pray that although this is a very difficult time, your family will bond together as the strong family I remember you to be, supporting and loving each other through the process.
Much love & big hugs , Susan (Vonnie) Gardner

OBITUARY

Mr. Leonello Conti

September 15, 1929 – March 8, 2012

Ocean View Funeral Home & Burial Park

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