Her brother dies after her husband and daughter Caritina

Mourning has settled in the house of Look for Lapique like a stubborn guest who won’t leave the main hall. First it was Carlos Goyanesher husband, whose emptiness became eternal in an instant; after Caritathe daughter that no one imagines surviving, the cord that cuts life in two; and now Manolothe older brother, the shield that seemed invulnerable since childhood. The weight of so many absences cracks the family structure that Cari and Myriam Lapique always saw as a solid trunk. Each loss is one more splinter that sticks in the hearts that still beat, with that weak, almost resigned beat that grief has when it accumulates.

Manolo Lapique died this morning at the Ramón y Cajal hospital in Madrid, after a long, exhausting illness, as if life had wanted to gradually strip him of his strength, but not of his dignity. He was 70 years old, and there were just days left to celebrate turning 71. They say that his last months were difficult, a parade of treatments that only seemed to stretch out the suffering. Even so, until the end he maintained that air of an affable and generous gentleman, the smile that did not give up even in the face of pain.

The Lapique family, aristocratic in their ways and devoted to their ties, now faces the accumulated weight of their losses. Manuel, eldest son of the marriage formed by Manuel Lapique Quiñones and Caritina Fernández de Liencres Liniers, was born to be the protector of everyone, the older brother who looked out for his own. But even the strongest columns fall before time. Almudena, the younger sister, died young; Now Manolo joins her, leaving Cari and Myriam in a loneliness that feels like a frozen shadow.

Manolo’s last images take us back to the funeral of Caritina, his niece, where he accompanied Cari in her pain. His face was the reflection of someone who carries not only his own pain, but also that of others. Even then, his health was fragile, but his presence remained solid, an eroded rock, but a rock nonetheless.

Manuel was not only brother, father and friend; He was also a man of action, of business, of vision. An industrial engineer, he founded export and consulting companies, and was general director of Corpique, the company that his father had founded in 1952. The family’s projects, such as the urbanization and the Hotel Guadalmina Golf in Marbella, were a testament to his efforts. for leaving a mark. The Costa del Sol was more than a summer resort for the Lapiques; It was the reflection of their history, their achievements and their ties.

Manolo had two children, Almudena and Manuel, from his marriage to Sofía Tassara, with whom he maintained a cordial and close relationship even after the divorce. In a time where breakups often destroy bridges, they showed that ties can be transformed, but not broken. Sofía, along with her children, was present at every critical moment of the illness, faithful to the person who was her companion until the end.

Almudena, the eldest daughter, reflects that Lapique lineage that combines elegance with a cosmopolitan spirit. Educated in Madrid, Paris and London, her life has now taken her to Mexico, where she has continued the family legacy of sophistication and success. In 2015, she was one of the protagonists of the Paris Debutante Ball, an event that encapsulates the universe of privilege and tradition that marked her childhood.

But all those achievements and international connections fade in the face of the simplicity of loss. This afternoon, at the La Paz funeral home in Tres Cantos, Madrid, those who loved Manolo Lapique will gather to say goodbye to him. In that silent space, where words are often unnecessary, Cari Lapique will once again face the devastating task of saying goodbye. A task that has become a constant, as if life demanded too much of him.

It is difficult to find solace in a tragedy that accumulates like a torrent. For Bibiana, a close friend of Cari, even offering condolences is an insufficient act, because “there are no words that fill that void.” And perhaps that is the hardest truth: that there are no words, no gestures, no rituals that can restore what has been lost.

Manolo’s death is not just the end of a life; It is the echo of all previous losses, a reminder that the Lapique family, no matter how solid and luminous it may have been, is also vulnerable to the weight of time and the fragility of existence. Cari and Myriam are now the guardians of a legacy that seems wounded, but not broken. Because even in pain, life persists, like a river that refuses to stop, even if its waters flow with less force.

Today, at the Tres Cantos funeral home, the surname Lapique will once again resonate through the hallways. But this time, it will not be with the joy of the celebrations that one day defined this family, but with the echo of farewell, the one that always leaves a void that is impossible to fill.