Jared carried in him the weight of survival and the sharpness of wit. He was funny, really funny, with a dry humor catching you off guard in the best way. Music ran through him. He loved screw music — the slow, syrupy beats of Houston’s soundscape, and could quote lyrics like scripture. He loved The Sopranos, Scarface, Goodfellas, and every mob movie in between, drawn to stories about flawed loyalty, survival, and power… stories where men like him tried to make sense of their place in a brutal world.
He loved fiercely in his own way. He could be infuriating, distant, and deflective but underneath that was someone who cared, who felt things deeply, who longed for connection even when he didn’t know how to hold it. He knew how to make someone feel seen, even if only for a moment. He made mistakes. And he mattered. Jared was not perfect, but he was real. And he was loved.
May he finally know peace. I love you Jared. ❤️