⚡️💛 rest in power Patriarch 💛⚡️ . . . I can hear your voice now...”Will you just go to bed?!” you’d ask 7 year old me wanting to stay up with you and gram for fear of missing anything with you both. From the horsey rides on your lap when I was little, to the strolling up and down the beaches in Corpus Christi looking for sandollars, to you teaching me to play cards and helping me hide gram’s Waldorf salad on my plate because I was impossibly picky and still to this day hate Mayo. . . . To the scent of black licorice and spearmint leaves and the way you used to always hold on to the handle above the door when I would drive (can’t blame you) to the phone calls where we would laugh until we almost peed our pants with our signature intro line “hellloooooooo?” in full accent. To the pep talks through my darkest days and my phone calls on your less than bright ones after beating cancer, then a valve replacement, then another valve and then that darn cane you despised so much that much to ...