C

"Carlos has been a part of our lives for more than two decades. His wit, intelligence and thoughtfulness have been guides to us as we shared with Carlos and Pamela the pleasures and rigors of becoming new parents, raising children, and seeing them leave; of learning how to age and grow, and exploring how to be thinking human beings in spite of the vagaries of suburban parenthood. He is the philosopher next door, the professor in the neighborhood. He was the good neighbor, the good friend, the good person, who was always there. He ensures that we appreciate the importance of loved ones, of friends, of books, and of continuing to think deeply in the midst of sippy cups and student driving. He is loved, and appreciated. We are no longer next door -- life, and sickness, has moved us inevitably apart -- but that is unavoidable, and does not change the basic relationship -- of love and appreciation." We send you our love

Hola, les escribo en español porque me es difícil trasmitir en inglés adecuadamente lo que siento, lamento no poder compartir estando ahí presente pero estaré desde mi pensamiento y corazón. Carlos fue y es parte de mi vida desde hace 4 décadas y siempre los recuerdos lo evocan como de las personas más importantes de mi vida por todos sus valores y aportes. Este diciembre compartimos unos hermosos días con hijos incluidos que confirmaron lo precioso y privilegiado que sigue siendo nuestro cariño.Vaya un gran abrazo con beso incluido de mi parte como de Sarah y Maria. Until we meet again, thank you my friend.

I am sending two pictures with Carlos. Both are in NJ when I was an au pair there, in 1994. Carlos came to visit and we had a great time. I remember Carli asked me to take a picture of him carrying the baby and send the picture to Tania, as that would probably be the only time he would have hold a baby in his life... and then he had two beautiful babies that are great guys now! (The lady next to Carli is Estefi Martinez). "Carli, te acordas que me pediste que te sacara esa foto para Tani? que probablemente fuera la única vez que te viera con un bebe en brazos... por suerte no tuviste razon!!! te quiero!" Love you!

When I met Carlos for the first time, I thought he was a psychiatrist; I always felt he was a better listener than talker (one of his qualities where he has succeeded Ted). I have always liked him a lot, and he has been much in my thoughts lately. The way Carlos said goodbye to Ted this morning reminded me of my eldest sister. A few months before she died of cancer a decade ago, we went out in Amsterdam. Walking home, we realized it would be one of the last times we would meet. So we basically said goodbye in the middle of the street. Last October my brother passed away, my last remaining sibling, with whom I had become close in the last decade. After the losses of several close family members I realized it is more important to be close to someone during life than during a funeral ceremony, and to say goodbye while still able to do so. So thank you Carlos to keep contacts over the last years, and for sharing the hard times of your life with us. Hugs, Kieke

Carlos, we are so grateful for your friendship. You are perhaps the brightest and most intellectually engaged of all the people we know. You find joy in ideas – whether based in philosophy, science, psychology, or history – and you impart that joy to others. Your embrace and analysis of ideas is never just an intellectual exercise but, rather, in furtherance of the quest for an improved world, a world with less anguish and pain, more beauty and joy. In our book club, you invariably have profound insights about plot, character, social and historical or psychological context but, equally or more important, you help us, through both exhortation and example, to be our better, more generous, less contentious selves. You’ve given us a reading list that will keep us engaged for years, and always thinking of you. You’ve been Dan’s spiritual guide to meditation, for which both of us will always be grateful. You take the long view, when we’re all getting blown about by the short. In these final trying months, you have continued to take that view, providing an example that we will always cherish and, if we are lucky and very very good, follow. You are a warm, engaging, and gentle soul, whom we have loved spending time with. The world will be a far less interesting place without you. And we will miss you greatly. Kay & Dan

Dear Carlos, Rick and I have so many happy memories with you! From dancing at your wedding, to celebrating Asher’s Bar Mitzvah with you and Pammy and the boys in CT, to celebrating with you all at Gaby and Mati’s Bar Mitzvahs. We have loved sharing these heartfelt milestones with you.You have brought love and wisdom, sensitivity and charm to our lives, and we are forever grateful for that!Would that we lived closer to you all these many years, as I know we would have shared many many more deep conversations and laughter..... We send you our love, Rick, Laura, and Asher

"Te acordás cuando me dabas clases de latín en tu depto de Apolinario Figueroa? Fuiste único que me hizo ver el lado matemático de esa lengua y gracias a vos es que logré aprobarla... Te mando un fuerte abrazo!!!! Isidoro"

When I first met Carlos, I was charmed, as I imagine most are, by his lively and penetrating intellect. I could tell he was a moral and serious person, but it was his mind more than his heart that I engaged with. We loved jousting about ideas. Then, several years after that meeting, I visited Pamela and Carlos at a time when I was beset with a very personal and troubling problem about which I had spoken to very few people. It was a given that I would open up to Pamela, whom I have always trusted absolutely, but what surprised me was how easily I trusted Carlos with this confidence, given that I lived in Connecticut and really did not know him all that well. I then saw a very different side of him: an profoundly kind, compassionate, empathetic, and wise person who brought me enormous comfort. He may not even remember this encounter, for it lasted only an hour or two twenty-five years ago, and he does not need to. He just needs to know how much he helped me, as I am sure he has helped many others. The other is a silly story also related to his caring capabilities. Roger and I once were visiting Pammy and Carlos after Roger had surgery for tennis elbow. Rog had a drain in the wound and I was supposed to clean it or change it or something horrible. I got a brilliant idea and said, "Wait, Carlos, you are a doctor. You do it!" Carlos pointed out that he had never really been that kind of doctor, but he gamely stepped up. Thanks, darling Carlos, for these and for all of the wide-ranging conversations we have enjoyed over our many years of friendship. You have a wonderful mind and many impressive achievements, but far more importantly, you have a great, deep, wise heart. Lots of love, from Stacey

Weekend Warriors (a poem [Lauren] and a drawing [Alex])) Stretching my calves and Achilles tendons in anticipation of our grudge match, I notice it’s already 3:10, and the blazing mid-afternoon sun is melting the SPF 30 lotion smeared over my nose, cheeks, and chin. Despite the 70s-style terry cloth sweatband stretched across my forehead, a drop stings the edge of my right eye when I adjust my shades. At 3:15 I glance at my watch, but I haven’t given up hope about your imminent arrival. I know you’ll show up here at Palisades before we must forfeit our court time at 5 o’clock. Are you stalling because you’re wary of my devious underhand serve? Worried about my relentless mix of deep lobbage, sliced drop shots, and no-man’s-land junk intended to make you regret that heavy pile of tortellini marinara you gobbled down for lunch? You bike into the parking lot at 3:18, full of apologies about your tardy arrival– something about signals crossed with Pamela and a soccer carpool pick-up; then you forgot your racquet and had to return home. You look concerned when you see my bulky knee brace, Velcro ankle wrap, and hot pink shoulder tape, and you ask if I feel okay enough to play. I assure you that my durable medical equipment is merely preventive, not a sign of vulnerability or worthy of your pity– or mercy. After warm-ups, we get into a rhythm of cross-courts, drop shots, lobs, and occasional volleys–long rallies, mostly, and we rehydrate while catching our breath at every court change. Your shirt is stained through, and I’ve gulped half of the ice water in my thermos by the time we get to 4-4 in the first set. Few outright winners and lots of deuce and ad points feel interminable as they test our patience, endurance, medial meniscus cartilage, and our unyielding will. Finally, at 4-6; 7-5, though I’m so desperately eager to break the tie, and the momentum is clearly on my side, for the sake of our joints, we decide to hold off on a third set. After a sweaty handshake and a quick kiss on the cheek, I pour a fresh thermos of water over my head and lie down in the precious shade of the gazebo to begin my post-match stretching routine. You climb onto your 10-speed, racquet slung over your shoulder, and ride back home–neither the victor nor the vanquished.

Thanks for writing and for keeping all of us informed. As you may know, I've exchanged some letters with Carlos over the past year. Being able to do that means a great deal to me. I live in Mexico still and I won't be able to travel any time soon. It's very possible that I won't see Carlos again. But I think about him everyday and I am incredibly grateful to him for staying in touch with me. If you find a moment, please tell him that. And also tell him that Nicolas is doing great. And that Nicolas knows Carlos' story, and will not take a single day of life for granted. Nor will I. Un abrazo Tim