I am Luis Silva, from Puerto Rico. My mother, Carolina, was Luis’ sister. He was two years younger than her, and they were very close. My siblings and I have very fond memories of Luis. For us he was a source of joy. We enjoyed his warmth, his humor, his wit. But for us, Luis also was a source of pride.

Let me start with a story. My memory might be wrong, but this is the way I remember it. These are beautifully painful memories. When Luis had the stroke 31 years ago, I was at the hospital with my mother and Bobby and Mayito Lobo. The doctors had told us that there was no hope, and we should say our goodbyes to Luis. Mayito and Bob went into the intensive care unit, and Mayito came out some time later. He told us that he had been holding Luis’ hand, saying goodbye, and that he told Luis that he would take care of Bobby, that Luis should not worry. Mayito said that he then felt that Luis squeezed his hand. At that point my mother jumped out of her chair and said: “Yes! He’s still there! You see, there is still hope!” To me that memory is so very symbolic now.

Luis was worldly, cultured, very well educated, well-travelled, sophisticated, fluent in three languages, a gifted writer, an intellectual. He was also very approachable, down to earth, wise, fun to be around, and very funny. He was very analytical, conscious of protocol and well mannered. He lived through a lot, and if I had to sum up his approach to life in one phrase, it would be: “We live in a cruel, cruel world, but there is a lot to enjoy here, and we’re going to be OK.”

Luis made his life with Bob, a marriage that is a great example for all of us about what partnership, commitment, love, and joy really can be. Our family is so grateful that Luis found Bob. They were meant for each other. But let’s keep it real – Bob has endured 31 years of struggle with a grace and optimism that few others are capable of. Bob is nothing short of heroic. Luis must have been a very good person, to have deserved Bob.

Luis was a family man. He made a family with Bob, and he had a very strong bond with his sister. They talked every day, first thing in the morning. Her passing 17 years ago was a big blow to him, but his love for her was evident in his regard for her children. He was so happy whenever we visited him. In 2015, my brother Alvaro Miguel and his wife Sandra went to Santa Fe with their four children. This was a highlight for Luis. My sisters and I also went to his and Bobby’s home when he fell ill last year, and he recovered very quickly and we had a great time. Talking to him, mostly through Bob, but also laughing at his jokes and his misbehaviors. His intelligence, wit and joy always came through, even when his words did not. In that sense, the stroke did not change him at all.

My mother and Luis were very young children when they lost their father, Raúl, and they were raised by their mother, Carola, herself an orphan since her teens. Luis grew up in Cuba, in a complicated world of wealthy cousins on both sides of the family, inheritances, family owned partnerships, and political turmoil. The three of them, Luis, my mother and their mother, were wealthy, but dependent on businesses that were controlled by their relatives. Since a very early age, Luis had to step up as the “head of the household.” He watched over their interests and made decisions for the three of them. I found some letters that Luis wrote in January of 1960, as a freshman at Harvard. The maturity of this 17 year old was impressive. He was giving his mother and sister advice – kindly, but with authority. He was in charge. Here is a quote from a letter written January 11, 1960 while my mother and grandmother were living in Madrid: “Slow down on your spending, because if we return to Havana, we will need the money to rebuild. Let’s not be the only ones who are ruined because we threw away our money, instead of because it was taken away.”

A few weeks later, shortly before his 18th birthday, he wrote to my mother. Again giving advice, he wrote: “Do not live waiting for Fidel to fall and for us to return to our previous life; leave that to those who have no future. You and I have our lives ahead of us, let’s not tie ourselves to a world that is disappearing.” He then explains to her that being rich can be a cop-out, and adds: “I do not mean to say that I do not like money, I enjoy it and plan to have as much money as possible so that you, our mother, and Nana and Tito will never want.” Nana was Carola’s cousin, married to Tito, loved dearly by Luis and my mother.

Luis was named after his father’s older brother, Luis Mendoza. His father had great foresight, because that Luis Mendoza took over the upbringing of his brother’s children, and both Luis and my mother dearly loved him and his wife, Consuelo. As it turns out, that other Luis Mendoza also had a great influence on the life of my father, Alvaro, long before he met my mother, so I was also named after that Luis Mendoza. After his dear uncle passed away, another impressive personality became the father figure for Luis – the “notorious” Julio Lobo, the king of sugar. Julio paid for Luis’s college education, but refused to do so at a liberal college like Harvard, and made Luis go to LSU (Louisiana State University) to study sugar engineering. 

Luis had a very successful business career. He was well known and recognized as an authority in the New York sugar trade, and he would write a market report that was sought after by all the major players, because of his unique insights and analysis, but also because of his style; he could bring humor and culture to the driest market data. In my early days in the sugar business, saying that I was the nephew of Luis Mendoza opened many doors for me.

Today we remember a very special man. We are grateful for the life of Luis Mendoza and for the love and joy he brought to our lives. He fought through hard times since he was a little boy. He lost everything he had, and he made sure that his family never lacked anything. He succeeded at everything, especially at love. We will remember him with pride.