The day I defended my PhD, my mother approached Ferran and said: "Thanks for everything, Ferran. Thanks for being like a father to her."
I just heard that my scientific father, my advisor, has died. I write this still in shock, when my thoughts go through so many moments of advice, meetings, laughter and travels around the world; of encounters and differences; of learning and imitation. I have repeated so many times "Let me quote Ferran…", "we have to ask Ferran", or "what would Ferran say?". Many times after finishing my thesis I looked at a paper before submitting it with "Ferran's eyes", looking at what he would have to say on it.
Ferran had many scientific children. We all admired him and will miss the emergency calls to which, unfailingly, he answered with a calm "digueu-me?" that made you think, whatever the problem was, it would be solved.
Ferran was that person who, when you entered the restaurant, the waiter identified without hesitation as the one who should be offered the wine-tasting. The father that gathered us in Barcelona from time to time to give us that push we needed.
Many times I have said that you cannot have a "former" PhD advisor. Because your advisor is forever. Forever, Ferran. A kiss wherever you are.