We were roommates in August 2017, and I happened to be on vacation. I remember he texted me to say that he was moving out, but he wouldn't tell me why. He said that we could talk about it when I got back. I assumed I must have done something to piss him off -- maybe I left too many dishes left in the sink, stole too many of his Mexican chocolates, or finally pulled too many pranks like slipping an eggroll into his shoe? I had no idea what I could have done to make him move out so unexpectedly.
That's the type of guy Marcos was. He always thought of others before himself - even during the hardest parts of his treatment, the lowest of lows. He never complained. He never wanted anyone to worry or to be a bother. He suffered silently and tried to fully shoulder the burden so others wouldn't have to - just like he always did. He was a warrior. Without a doubt, he was the strongest guy I know. He lived life with a contagious smile, goofy laugh, and genuine kindness in his heart. He was a gem. Truly, Marcos was one of kind: a 6'3" 250lb. hockey and professional rugby playing Mexican Jew with a weird Canadian accent and a repertoire of dad jokes a mile long.
On December 21, 2020, I lost a best friend, a mentor, a brother...someone whose last request to me was to make him proud. I have no idea how I'll live up to his legacy, but I'm going to try like hell.
Love you, Kitos.