We’d like to thank you for coming today to pay your respects to Aurelio and to our family, who are in shock over his remarkable departure, a mere six days from diagnosis to death from a highly aggressive form of leukemia.

In that short time, much needed managing. From the countless calls and communications that could only be made and fielded by Ani, who held it together because she is graced with the ability to be positive and optimistic when no one else can be; to my husband Victor’s head-on confrontation of the truth, that Aurelio was dying and doing so rapidly, and so Victor made sure to repeatedly thank him for us, so that nothing would be left unsaid.

Ricky, our old soul, deeply loving and stalwart in his devotion to all of us, but possessing a special tenderness for his mother, ensured that she had her bag when she needed it, she had a ride when she needed it, that whatever was required, it would be provided; there was Carlos, who took charge and never left it, staying by his parents’ side almost without a break, talking with the doctors, keeping track of which one did what thing, helping Ana Maria keep it straight and making sure we were informed. No doubt he was able to do all this because Katie, his lifeline, was keeping us going with her strength and unusual compassion, and with the good sense to cook a delicious Easter dinner for us and all the grandchildren, providing a focus and nourishing us when we so desperately needed it.

And, of course, there is Aurelio’s other half Ana Maria, Ana or “Mami”, only now instead of finding his misplaced glasses, she was caring for him from the bird’s nest she’d fashioned for herself in a rigid hospital chair by his bedside. Knowing him better than she knows herself, she read his every expression and kept watch. Always very natural in their love and commitment to each other, so they were even then. Without big shows and fuss, Ana Maria did what she has always done, under every circumstance: she saw him through, in pearls and a headband for good measure.

I once asked Aurelio whether he’d always been the tallest boy in his class. He replied, “I was the tallest boy in Cuba.” And indeed, Aurelio was a very big man. Aurelio took care of it, whatever it was, without complaint, without seeking credit, and with such devastating wit that he made it look easy. His nobility was innate, it came from always putting others first, and from doing what needed to be done with kindness, intelligence, humor, and efficiency. His was the kind of elegance that you just can’t fake, the kind that no amount of goofy sun hats, t-shirts, or sportswear emblazoned with the GAL Manufacturing insignia could compromise. Aurelio wore everything well.

Starting from the ground zero of exile from Cuba, Aurelio quietly rose to prominence in his profession. He authored many patents for GAL and became the leading authority in his field in the city of New York, often consulted to solve the problems that no one else could. He was great at his work, and he loved it. Some of you have seen the documentary Vertical Traveler, a film that is as much about Aurelio as it is about elevators. His fascination with the subject is obvious, and his charisma makes that movie worth watching.

That fascination, that inquisitiveness extended to all manner of things. Aurelio’s love of puzzles and problem-solving was legendary, and he lived to share it. Whether he was taking apart a motorcycle piece by piece in order to learn how to put it back together, or rigging a pulley in the backyard to instruct the grandchildren, deliberating over malfunctioning pipes, pumps, and posts on Birch Island, or trotting out the cork-in-the-bottle maneuver, his curiosity and enthusiasm were over the top. He famously wanted you to “come over here and help me”, which really meant that he wanted to show or teach you something, to figure something out together, to noodle around till the thing got fixed or the lesson was learned or you at least had a ball trying.

To be in Aurelio’s inner sanctum meant participating in these escapades and tricks, often undertaken during family gatherings and vacations. All were enlisted in the projects and displays, no exceptions.

Once, in Vermont, a group of us had decided to picnic by a lake at the end of a wooded trail. Among us was a grandma, elderly and in a wheelchair, who would be left out, because she was unable to negotiate the trail’s rocks and roots. Aurelio hatched a plan, and, ancient as she was and somewhat to her horror, he got her there, carrying her himself.

The grandchildren’s tender ages and small sizes offered no protection, either. Camilla, Sophia, Serena, Aurelio Victor and Lucas were just the right shape and weight to pull off a human pyramid in the lake or take for an educational, if harrowing spin in the Sunfish.

By now our children were well acquainted with their rascal of a grandfather, so Lucy not only came as a great gift and joy to Aurelio, but also as new blood, a fresh reinforcement whose inexperience made her the perfect addition to Team Alvarez.

You may notice that I avoid mentioning anyone other than immediate family by name. This is because every one of you here meant something to Aurelio, every one of you experienced in some important way his tremendous generosity of spirit. Whether you were loved by him, helped by him, learned something from him or had a good laugh, you should know that YOU were the meaning of his life because he was all about people.

Aurelio and Ana Maria have blurred the line between family and friends. Their open-door policy meant that 105 Maple Terrace was your home, too, that wherever they found themselves, you were welcome. Those of us who married into Team Alvarez were warmly embraced, not just as a son- or daughters-in-law, but as individuals. Carl, Katie, and I, so different in many ways from this remarkable family, were nonetheless mesmerized by and drawn to their light, a light that Aurelio and Ana Maria brought into being through each other’s considerable gifts and have always shared with abandon.

For Aurelio, when the end drew near there would be no respirators or tubes or machines—of that he was sure. As he was painlessly easing his hold on our world, Ana Maria held his hand and explained to their children gathered around them where Aurelio had come from: his parents, sisters, aunts, uncles, cousins, stories from his past that connected to the present.

When I arrived, we told more stories, some of them humorous. One of us told a story whose punch line elicited a good, hard laugh. It had been a good joke, not only because it was funny, but because it conveyed something essential. This was Aurelio’s way, to the end.

His deeds in life had been absolutely solid and substantial, as a son, husband, father, brother, uncle, friend, and helper, and his laughter and levity were borne of a humanity he shared with wholesomeness and generosity. We enjoyed the punch line for a few moments more, and when the last ripple of the joke subsided, Aurelio died peacefully.

Though his life was cut short, these powerful final moments were a blessing, for Aurelio and for our family. To not see this is to miss the truth about him, to in some way deny his magnificence, for he died as he lived—with courage, true dignity, efficiency, and yes, even with humor, surrounded by the magical family he started, his joy and greatest accomplishment. It was gracefully done, and knowing that we can’t be greedy, we feel grateful for having had him at all.

We wish him well on his journey, and buoyed by the extraordinary fullness he leaves us, will try to honor him by being just a little kinder and more forgiving; by complaining a little less and giving a little more; by staying humble and making more fun.

If Aurelio meant something to you, chat up the guest at the party that everyone else avoids, agree to help move someone’s furniture, give away your last beer, teach them something, don’t take all the credit, pay your way, encourage others to poke fun at you, be sweet to all children, love nearly everyone by letting them be who they are, stand by your people, keep trying till you get it done, never brag, praise others whenever possible, join the game, be a gentleman, as well as a gentle man.

To do this is to keep making Aurelio matter. Pass him on.