[2020-08-22] Greg
Today is the one-year anniversary of the day we lost my brother Greg. He is dearly missed.
He was a simple, humble, down-to-earth person who made those around him feel at ease. He was very generous, and was always there to lend a hand to others, even at his own expense.
Greg was well known for his work ethic. He thought my daughter's portmanteau "Workahollington"—a term that applied to both of us—was funny and appropriate.
He loved music and recorded his own compositions. And occasionally—with a little prompting—he would play for others. As I write this post, I am listening to his music. It's amazing that we can grow up with someone and see them every few weeks in adulthood and still not know what they love, wish for and worry about.
We didn't get a chance to say goodbye to Greg. And so I often reflect on my last conversation with him. A few weeks before he died, he talked to me about the house he was building. "Have you seen it?" he asked me. I hadn't. So he encouraged me to take a detour and drive by it on my way home. I did, and I'm glad of it.
For more than 40 years, Greg’s place was at the head of our family table. Just as he occupied a special place at the table, he will forever hold a special place in our hearts. He will live on in our memories and stories and in our deep love and affection for him.
This has been the toughest day since my diagnosis—both mentally and physically. I was comforted, though, by a visit from my niece and the arrival of a fruit basket and "bouquet" of strawberries from my employees.
I'm reminded of the quote, "Be kind to others because you never know what they're going through."
My thanks to everyone who was there for me a year ago and who is there for me today.
