Marco and I were graduate students together at Rutgers, and we lived together for one of those years. 

He was such a bright light at Rutgers: so friendly, cheerful, funny, happy. Always welcoming, wanting to talk about ideas, and always seeking understanding. Always asking questions. 

A group of us stayed in cabins on a lake in Georgia. They were wonderful days. Idyllic. We would swim to the damn, play in boats, hike, boulder. Board games in the evening. Lots of conversations, laughter. It was perfect. 

Our house in Highland Park, which is where Marco, Steph, and I lived, was sweetness distilled. We had so many games nights, dinners, parties. We always had friends over, and it felt like a social heart of the Rutgers Philosophy graduate community. So many conversations—deep, silly, funny. It was the best flatshare I shall ever have. Marco was a wonderful person to live with. 

A lot stands out about Marco—his ambitious projects, his intelligence, his sense of adventure, his appreciation for the moment. But one thing that particularly stands out to me was his generosity. When he was excited about baba ganoush he had brought back from NYC, his excitement meant he wanted to share it around. When he discovered a new place or hobby, he wanted to bring others along. When I took his bag by accident from our basement, he told me I could keep it. His approach was always to share. His outlook always so positive.  

It is hard to appreciate that he is gone. It doesn’t seem possible. He was so vibrant, radiant, and lively.