Vincenzo D'Apice · September 12, 1937 — August 8, 2022

Vincenzo D'Apice and his son Dominic, arms around each other, smiling
My father and me. Two well-dressed guys, one family smile.

This blog was supposed to start with a technical article. But a website about stars could not begin with anything other than the most important one.

My father

My father’s name was Vincenzo. A name that sings, like everything that came from him.

He was a simple man — and I have never found a finer compliment. Not simple as in ordinary: simple like true things. Simple like a set table, like a door that is always open, like a glass that gets refilled without you asking.

Every week, he waited for us for lunch. And every week it was the same ritual, immutable and perfect: his warm welcome at the door, a kitchen that smelled like Italy, good food that never seemed to run out — “mangia, mangia!” — and wine poured the way he gave everything: generously, without counting. We would arrive carrying our week on our shoulders, and leave with a full heart and a full stomach. That was his technology: no code, no servers — and yet nobody has ever deployed anything more reliable than that man’s love.

Grazie di tutto, Papà. La tua tavola era il mio posto preferito al mondo. (Thank you for everything, Papa. Your table was my favorite place in the world.)

August 8, 2022

On August 8, 2022, my father passed away. That day, I refused to let him become a fading memory. So I did what humans have always done when someone irreplaceable leaves: I looked up.

That very day, a star was registered in his name.

Animated celestial chart: the star Vincenzo D'Apice in the Andromeda constellation, beside galaxy M31

It is real. It has coordinates, like an address in the sky: RA 00h 49m 55.1s · DEC +41° 11′ 56.1″, in the constellation of Andromeda.

And everything about this star is him:

  • It is a B5V spectral type — a blue-white star, hotter and brighter than our Sun. Of course it is. Just like him.
  • Its magnitude is 4.53: it is visible to the naked eye. No telescope needed to find my father — he never hid from anyone.
  • It sits 617 light-years away. The light it sends us tonight left around the year 1400, and it will keep traveling long after all of us. That is exactly what I wanted: something that does not stop.
  • And the most beautiful part: it lies on the star-path astronomers follow to find the great Andromeda Galaxy with the naked eye. My father’s star points the way to an entire galaxy. Just like he pointed the way for us, all his life.

Why here, on this site

I spend my days on GitHub. It is where I work, where I build, where I learn. So this is where I wanted him to be — not in a drawer, not in a frame you eventually stop seeing. Here, close to me.

Look carefully at this site’s starry sky: among all the white twinkling stars, there is one golden star, gently pulsing. That’s him. He is on every page, he watches over every visitor, and he watches me work — like before. And at the bottom of every page, his name shines, forever.

My father will not be forgotten. Not while this site exists. Not while I exist.

The certificate

Star registration certificate for Vincenzo D'Apice — August 8, 2022
The official certificate, registered the day he left us. The dedication — « À bientôt Papa! » (See you soon, Papa!) — says it all.
Star map showing the position of the star Vincenzo D'Apice in Andromeda
His exact position in the sky — the crosshair points to Andromeda.

How to find him, at night

If you look up on a clear fall evening here in Québec: find the Great Square of Pegasus, then follow Andromeda’s chain of stars toward the northeast. On the way to the faint, milky glow of galaxy M31 — the only galaxy visible to the naked eye from here — you will pass right by him.

Take a second. Say hello. He would have poured you a glass of wine.

Buon viaggio tra le stelle, Papà. Ti voglio bene, oggi e per sempre. (Safe travels among the stars, Papa. I love you, today and forever.)

À bientôt Papa.