My grandma Patricia Vestuti Tetrault, a wonderful, venerable, awe-inspiring woman, passed peacefully this past week at 91 years old, reuniting in the beyond with my grandpa Jacques (pictured together here in 1950s Venezuela where they met and lived for many years with their pet monkey Pierre and eventually three sons including my father). Patti was a gifted architect (one of the first women to graduate from the Yale School of Architecture, where she studied with Louis Khan and worked as the head of internal architectural operations throughout the greater part of her career), a poet, a polio-survivor, a world traveler and Francophile with a particular penchant for the Dordogne, a scholar of Byzantine cathedrals, an avid ornithologist, and genuinely the kindest, most humble and present person I’ve ever known. When she designed her house in Cape Cod in the 80s, she started like a medieval architect, sitting atop the dune with 4 pegs and a long string, watching the sun and altering the siting of the construction several times until it suited her vision. Spending time with her in those surroundings made me who I am today, and I feel so grateful and lucky to have her memory to carry onward with me, forever.