Oh my dearest Erik, no words can capture what you have given and what we loose. I am thankful for all of your words, those given to prove wisdom, kindness, comfort and hope. I just wish I could find the right words now. I love you and all you have given us, our world will not be the same without you.

Erik, I am so sad to hear about this latest prognosis. The way you are dealing with it is inspirational. You have always been such a role model in everything you do and I am so lucky to have had the opportunity to work with you and be mentored by you. You and Marcia have been so generous to us over the years and you both taught us a lot about work, family and friendship. I wish I was closer and could come and visit and give you both a big hug. Unfortunately this is not possible. Please know that I am sending virtual hugs and lots of love to you, Marcia, Jenny and Becky every day.
Much love
Janeen😘😘😘😘

Dear Erik,

Grace and courage and optimism and kindness. All of these traits immediately come to mind when I think of you. Which is and has been often since we met in 1976 when I unceremoniously fell off a stack of computer output that I had piled high in my office across the hall from you, in hopes that I could reach something I’d stashed too high to retrieve. I landed with a thud and you came running in to make sure I was ok.

I have always admired and learned from your analytical brilliance, even when and perhaps especially when we disagreed. And if I have distanced myself intellectually somewhat over the years (though perhaps in some ways not all that far), it has been a protective move of a student asserting independence from an advisor. At this point however, I want to make clear and explicit in a way I perhaps never have in all these years that you always have been— and forever will be — an important intellectual influence on me.

Intellect as you know is important to me. But far more important are the qualities of caring and kindness and helpfulness and personal integrity and grace and in all these you provide a shining example. So it is no surprise how many other lives you have touched and made more meaningful in the process. Indeed, you are one of the most fundamentally decent human beings I know. And this is a key part of your legacy.

I will be thinking of you and of Marcia and Jenny and Becky in the coming days. May they and you be enveloped in the warmth of love and family.

With great affection,
Robin

Erik, I am so sad to hear your news. I have many fond memories of you--from the earliest, when I was in graduate school 40 years ago and you came to talk, to panels on Real Utopias at ASA. And of course our two weeks at the Havens Center in the 1990s. I will be thinking of you over these next weeks. With affection, Julie

The conscious part lives on too, in all our memories. Peace.

Dear Erik,

I'm heartbroken at this news. As I said I would when I last wrote, I finished out my two-semester undergrad theory course with the third part of Envisioning Real Utopias. This reading is a revelation for my students, many of whom base their post-graduation plans on the typology of ruptural, interstitial, and symbiotic change you lay out there. In this sense, the stardust known as Erik Olin Wright has always been dissipating -- if we take dissipate to mean spread and expand rather than disappear.

Our son, Leo, was born on December 5th. We promise to pass on to him the lessons we have learned from you: how to stay committed to your morals and politics while acknowledging the limits of what you can know; the importance of making your ideas clear so that they are accessible to as many people as possible; and, most importantly, what it means to live as a true egalitarian.

With love and admiration,

chris, caitlin, and leo

Dear Erik,
I have some words, but I am not sure they suffice to describe the impact the energy animating your words here has had on me the past few months.

Well, until I put my words together for you, I wanted to say this at least: I thought this in particular beautiful. "I am stardust that randomly ended up in this marvelous corner of the milky way where some stardust ended up in conditions where it became complexly organized in a way we term 'alive.'"
Living analytically and dying analytically... Poetic.

Perhaps I was thinking a bit on the meaning of life. What it means to be alive -- I mean beyond the physical sense of being alive -- when I started following your blog. You know, I have had a "platonic relationship with God", as one of Turkey's contemporary poets calls it, or. more accurately, with life beyond this one. A different dimension? Another product of our creative fanciful minds? Probably...But it is an appealing and sweet thought...

At any rate, I also wanted you to know that I am in Madison, and had every intention of seeing you, but it may be selfish to move to make that happen as I have a slight cold. This morning, Matias and I met with Jane Collins and Sandi Ramer and talked of you. (I do not know if I can post photos, but I will email you a photo today). We have so many good memories, and you are forever a part of a special community. We will all go, but our memories live on. Forever.
With love,
Ozlem

Erik--
Your sharing is an enormous contribution to us all, and your power and strength a model. I simply want, first, to thank you for this and so much else that you have contributed; and second to tell you how important your life's work and your present example are and continue to be for all of us.
--
Onward on the course we all must follow, hopefully with the strength and lesson you offer!
Gar

Beautiful

From the Joni Mitchell song...Woodstock.
We are stardust
We are golden

Keeping you and your family in the golden light. I appreciate immensely your willingness to share your life with us through this blog. Warmly, Ruth