I never imagined a year ago that I would be preserving Gregger’s memory. We should be celebrating life. Together. “If tears could build a stairway and memories a lane, I’d walk right up to heaven and bring you home again.” But I can’t. So I’ll hold onto the memories. The photographs in my mind. He was unique. Extraordinary. One-of-a-kind. There will never be another Gregger. And so I remember…
The Gentleman: Before he became The Gregger, he was just plain Greg. Simple. Modest. Unassuming. Gregger was a “Gentle” Man and a Gentleman all rolled into one cuddly delight. Big heart. Soft soul. The “gentle” man was considerate, kind, tender. He could melt my heart with the touch of his hand. Tears rolled down his cheeks at the first sight of his daughter in her wedding gown. He was the “softie.” But he was a true Gentleman. Courteous. Honorable. Respectful. To me, his children, his parents, his colleagues, his friends, his clients and himself. One of Gregger’s favorite sayings was “treat others as you would want to be treated.” This was true for everyone. From grocery bagger, waiter, or call center attendant to colleagues, friends, and family, it made no difference. Smile, be courteous, and always say, “thank you.” As Gregger said, “Being nice will get you EVERYWHERE!” I believe he was right. Gregger was first class. A colleague stated, “Greg was one-of-a-kind. He was a great businessman, had unbelievable style, but, more importantly was a wonderful human being who kept up with our careers and was the ultimate caretaker. He will be remembered as a true gentleman and friend.”
The Man of Integrity: Gregger was a man of integrity. A man of principles. Honest, trustworthy, selfless, and gracious without a need for recognition, acknowledgment, or accolades. Committed, faithful, loyal. Selfless. Nothing came before family and friends. Gregger was last. Every. Time.
“If all bosses could learn from Greg on how to treat employees or just random acquaintances, everyone would feel as important and loved as he made us feel.”
A leader as well as a team player. Confident, never cocky. But so very humble. I don’t think he ever really knew his true value. If I could call heaven right now I’d say, “You have left one helluva mark on this planet! I told you so!” Simply put, he left this world a better place.
“Thank you! Thank you! These words are completely inadequate for what you have meant to me over the years. Your untiring acts of kindness always humbled me. Knowing you has made a huge difference in my life. I recall the years of joy in working with you daily and the funny ways you had in expressing a resolution to a problem. I miss you and thank you so much for being part of my life.”
Courageous. A fighter. Determined to get to the top but do it his way. Nobody gets hurt. Competition was not good for the soul. Principles. Listen. Pay attention to detail. Oh, he was the best. I was oblivious. But he was spot on. Ying and yang. He nailed it. The little things. He just got it. Knew when to apologize and when to forgive.
Funny, playful. From sensibly serious to lighthearted laughter, Gregger could pan out the jokes or be the joke. The true evolution of Greg to “The Gregger.”
“I liked Greg the moment I met him. I knew working for him would be a great experience. It was. What I didn’t know is how much I would grow to love him, and his family as well. He always treated us with respect and compassion, all the while inspiring us to do better, to BE better. I miss him everyday. His smile, his positive energy, and how he made me feel will forever be etched in my heart and mind. I am a better person for having known Greg.”
And finally, the PERFECT role model for his children. They are the true legacy he left behind. I know he is beaming with pride.
Gregger…I could not wait to be your “Mrs.” To stand by your side. To be the half to your whole. I was so proud. Still am. Of you. Your journey. Your success. A husband. Father. Friend. Brother. Son. And so much more. You did it all. With grace. Humility. And strength. Straight to the end. I miss you every day.
