My father, Paul Scolaro, took advantage of every second he had on this earth. A former student at the School of Visual Arts, Art Director and Storyboard Artist, my father taught us to notice the beauty in everything.
As a small child, he would take me and my sister on all types of excursions from going rock climbing in Central Park to sitting at outdoor cafes and learning to draw the "perspective" of the pre-war urban architecture standing boldly in front of us. He was humble, compassionate and at 54 still willing to learn. He lived for music, art and nature and sharing these things with those that he loved.
As a child, I remember waking up in the middle of the night and seeing him parked in his chair next to the stereo, headphones plugged in, listening to one of his hundreds of CD's. His taste was electric and his acceptance of all kinds of music mirrored his openness in life.
Not once in his six year battle with cancer did I hear him complain. Never when the doctors poked and prodded, and in the very end when he was confined to the hospital and forced to stop doing the things he loved and never once did he complain. I did, but he did not. As a write this, I consider whether he would even want me to share, as he was a million and one things before a cancer fighter. But I want people to know his bravery, his love for life, his infectious positivity and his humanness.
I hope it will inspire others to live their lives the way he did, with cancer or without. My father's birthday, the three year anniversary of his death and my wedding date are soon fast approaching but I miss my father everyday. I am getting married in the catskills, a place my father loved, so I can share with my fiance, friends and family, the same beauty my father shared with me.