Joseph George Moro

My Dad was a remarkable man, a man who always seemed to me to be larger than life. He was a pillar of strength, wisdom, and an unwavering love of travel and adventure.  His kindness touched everyone he met, always offering a helping hand and a listening ear, no matter what the circumstance.  Don´t get me wrong he was very opinionated in his advice, but his goal was always to help in any way he could.
 
For those who knew him, his gift of conversation was ferocious.  To me, being a shy person, it could be a bit intimidating.   He was the only man I have ever known who could meet a couple in a Walmart and 20 minutes later be telling me their life story on the trip back to his condo in Myrtle Beach.  As much as it drove me nuts, I always admired him for that ability.
My father taught me invaluable lessons throughout his life and for that I am very grateful. He demonstrated the importance of integrity, hard work, and compassion, shaping me into the person I am today. 
 
In the past week many memories of him from my childhood have been pouring back into my mind.  Memories of trips to the Cape with my father and my sister.  Trips to the Marconi beach in Wellfleet where he taught us of Guglielmo Marconi and showing us the foundation where his tower once stood.  Telling us about how Antonio Meucci really invented the phone before Bell did but Bell got all the credit.  He had a fierce loyalty to his heritage and his Italian roots and never shied away from teaching us about it.  I remember Tony Soprano saying something similar to AJ when watching The Sopranos with my wife and thinking back of that trip to Wellfleet and how my dad said the same thing. 

Memories of my father taking me on a long car trip up the Maine Coast in the fall.  I remember as an 11 year old thinking, what is he thinking, what´s the point of this.  I felt like I was being driven crazy by being forced to listen to WEEI talk radio for most of the ride, except when I was able to convince him to put in his Harry Chapin cassette so I could listen too 2 of favorite songs, Cat´s in the Cradle and Thirty Thousand pounds of Bananas. 
I didn´t realize it back then but his whole point to the trip was to spend time with me and try to get closure to me as a father.
 
My father always used to tell me after he punished me for doing something bad, "you don´t understand why I punish you now but one day, you will get it".  He was 100% right because after the birth of James, it all hit me like a ton of bricks.  Eventually we all become our parents, at least I like to think, a better version of them.   I have learned from being a parent, we all strive to push our children to be better than us and to teach them from our mistakes hoping they will never have to make them and learn the lesson from our stories.
Although he is no longer with us, his legacy lives on in the stories we will continue to share and the memories we cherish of him and who he was.
He will be deeply missed, but his spirit will remain in our hearts forever. May we honor his life by carrying forward his love, generosity, and wisdom within our lives.
 
I love you Dad, until we meet again in that better place.

Your father´s kindness and strength touched everyone who knew him. It was an honor to have known him.

Pam and family. I am so sorry for your loss. Joe was a bright spot during my visits to the condo. His Italian cooking reminded me of being home with my own Italian pops. Prayers to all of you.
Shellie Kowalski

We are so very sad to learn of Joe's passing and want to extend our deepest sympathy to Pam and the rest of Joe's family and friends! We will miss him so very, very much in our Courtyard at New Approach in Florida!
Rest in Peace until we meet again, Joe! We will be getting out the Jameson to toast our Dear Friend! We love you, Pam!
Carol and Ken Skillingstad
B36