Tag: love

Family Celebrations of Love

Mikki Eveloff Leave a comment

familyBig affairs were always some of the happiest times in our lives, and with my family they were (and are) neverending! Birthdays, Bar/Bat Mitzvahs, and now weddings! We believe in celebrating the HAPPY TIMES! My mom’s motto – don’t wait for the “unhappy”- life is too short not to CELEBRATE. So celebrate we did. But this weekend was different for me. I was missing my “half.” I had to face the music alone, dance to my own beat. The anticipation and anxiety was excruciating – stomach rumbles, sleepless nights, and incessant jitters. They slowly subsided in the presence of my incredible family who provided so much love and support.

sibsEvery family has it’s schtick, it’s drama. The Bronska family is no exception. You get this clan together (27 and counting) and the crazies come out, but through it all, the love endures. Crazies or not, I would not have made it through without them – my kids (AMAZING!), my parents, my crazy sibs, in-laws, and a slew of nieces and nephews.

“The love of a family is life’s greatest blessing.”

Well my family is truly mine. They sensed when the tears were rising to the surface, when I needed a solid hand or the touch on my shoulder. No words needed. They were just there.

“Family means putting your arms around each other and being there.”

These crazies gathered from all over the country to witness the marriage between my beautiful niece, Ali and her dashing partner, Patrick. Elegant, charming, and “Ali-touched,” the wedding was magnificent! But I wanted Gregger to witness the joyous occasion. I wanted him to see his Ali girl walk down the aisle transformed from little girl to exquisitely angelic bride. It rained a little during the ceremony. I believe they were teardrops from heaven, Gregger’s way of saying,”I wish I was there.”

But he was there thanks to Ali. She made sure he had his “own” place, memorialized with pictures, quotes, and candles. This act exceeded the boundaries of love, compassion, and kindness. Ali brought her Uncle Greg back to us. Gregger was in the room.  2015-04-25 20.40.40

I saw him, heard him all night long. The songs made me cry. Whether it was Ashley and Tyler’s wedding dance, “our” song, or a distant memory, I had some rough moments, but someone was always there to grab my arm, hug me tight or hold my hand. Lucky me! And then, I got on the dance floor and got my groove on. I smiled. I laughed. But most of all, I loved my family. I would not have survived without THEM! I am so blessed. We are so blessed. Crazies, drama, and all the schtick! Love is all that matters! And I love them all!

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In The Midst Of Chaos There is Joy

In The Midst Of Chaos There is Joy

Mikki Eveloff Leave a comment

Life is short

My life lately could best be described as total chaos…I am trying to keep the pieces together, but every day a piece of the puzzle just doesn’t seem to fit in place. Whether it’s water flooding my hallways and kitchen from a broken line in my refrigerator, or pools of blood covering my floors from a bleeding dog, or another dog vomiting everywhere just as I finish cleaning up one mess after another, or the mundane routine of trying to keep bills in check, it’s just a little crazy. But, in the midst of all of this trivial “B.S.” I was blessed to be part of the “Teen Suit Event” at the Boys and Girls Club of Greater Scottsdale last Friday afternoon. It was a beautiful reminder that none of that “B.S.” really mattered at all. It put life in perspective and gave me a sense of purpose for a few short hours. This was not an easy decision for me. This was Gregger’s thing. I had to step into his shoes. I had to walk into those doors and not only recall the memories of last year, but actually “be him.” It was one of the hardest things I’ve done yet, but I was determined to do it, not only for him, but for me.

Greg 3I was pretty melancholy on my drive there. A few tears rolled down my cheeks as I remembered meeting Gregger in the parking lot last year. He was so excited to be part of this event. This was one of The Clotherie’s biggest fundraisers. Twice a year The Clotherie collected suits, sportcoats, and trousers to send to the Boys and Girls Club for this “Suit Event” for boys to wear to prom, graduation, or job interviews. Gregger was in high gear, dressing boy after boy, making sure they looked stylish, sharp, and dressed to a “t” in their new duds. He was like a proud dad with every one of those boys, and the boys were so incredibly grateful. While I assisted last year, I mostly reveled in Gregger’s passion; it just emanated from his soul.

little thingsBut this year was different. There was no Gregger. It was just me. I had to do this alone. I had to figure this out. I entered the room and tears immediately ran down my face. I wasn’t sure if I should stay or make a mad dash for the parking lot. I saw Gregger everywhere. But then I saw the boys. And I saw their smiles, their enthusiasm. My heart  melted and I felt my lips slightly curving upward; it was hard not to feel the warmth, the passion, the energy. At that moment, I knew I would be okay. I started suiting up the boys, pulling outfits, suits, shirts, and even ties. Gregger used to ask me if I liked this tie or that with his outfit…totally not my thing. But all of a sudden, I was picking out great ties to match shirts and suits and the boys were loving it. I felt like I was on fire. I didn’t want it to stop. The boys were so gracious. They were so proud. I just wanted to hug all of them and say “thank you” for giving me the greatest moment. Whereas they thought I was giving to them, they had no idea what they were giving to me…more than they could ever imagine. I smiled – a genuine, warm, loving smile that came from the inside out. I laughed. I felt happy. This was a good day.

So the chaos was behind me. It was still there when I got home, but that was okay. I was at peace and for a few hours I felt true joy.

Greg 22015-03-27 19.07.07 Kindness in words creates confidence. Kindness in thinking creates profoundness. Kindness in giving creates LOVE.

 

(Gregger and the boys 2014)
Tomorrow’s Just a Day Away

Tomorrow’s Just a Day Away

Mikki Eveloff Leave a comment

 


strength 6

Sadness has surrounded me this week. Death, tragedies, heartache. A dear childhood friend, a “best friend” mother, and a beloved father were all lost to people in my circle of life. I passed a fresh flower memorial on the side of the road with people hovering by and discovered that a motorcyclist had been killed the day before.  There are no words to express the sadness, the loss, the grief. One can only offer support, love, and friendship. I know this all too well. I also encountered several people, some strangers, others mere acquaintances, who had lost their spouses. I am trying to find the message, the answers, the reasons for so much all at once. There are no reasons, there are no answers, but I do believe there is a message. In conversation with a good friend who was dealing with her own trauma today, the lesson came to me. Life is tough. Life is not always fair. Life is a challenge.

“Life is a series of experiences, each one of which makes us bigger, even though sometimes it is hard to realize this. For the world was built to develop character, and we must learn that the setbacks and grieves which we endure help us in our marching onward.”

As I read these words I realize how very true they are. I am not sure I would have completely understood them seven months ago. In the past when I dealt with challenges, struggles, and hurdles I always realized it was to better myself, my relationships, but losing a loved one magnifies everything by tens of thousands. I believe we are dealt a certain hand in life. Sometimes we are given simple tasks and sometimes we are given way more than we think we can handle, and, it’s in those moments that we ask WHY?  Why me? But if I look around, it’s everywhere. Everyone is dealing with something. Some things are bigger, some are smaller, but everyone has SOME THING! I just have to choose HOW I deal. Do I break down, stop, and let life get the best of me, or do I choose to be stronger every day, put my feet on the ground and keep moving? I choose to move..to move towards a better life that offers happiness and hope for a better tomorrow.

“You never know how strong you are until being strong is the only choice you have.”  

strengthThe past seven months have proven this to me. Every day presents a new challenge, a new hurdle to overcome, and every day I somehow dig deep to find the strength to get through it. Do I falter, shake, and stumble? Of course I do. Somedays I don’t even want to get out of bed because I am so afraid of what life is going to present. But I do. I put two feet on the ground, take two steps forward and keep going. Somedays it’s two steps forward, one step back, but at least I keep on going. I refuse to give up. Gregger would not want that and neither do I. People tell me all the time how brave and strong I am. Well, sometimes the outside is a lot stronger than the inside, but it’s working it’s way inward. It’s like smiling at a stranger when I least want to and suddenly being entrenched with a sense of warmth and sunshine. It happens. It works. So I practice being strong. The more I practice, the more it sinks in and the more it feels real. I will break tomorrow, next week and probably a year from now, but each time I will be a little bit stronger because I have made it through another day.

 

tomorrowAs cliche as it may sound I count my blessings, I am grateful for the goodness, and I try, try, try to seek the positive in every blessed day. As Annie said, “The sun will come out tomorrow…you gotta hang on ’til tomorrow, come what may…tomorrow, tomorrow…you’re always a day away!”

some days suck

S.D.S.!

Mikki Eveloff Leave a comment

today sucks

What the heck is S.D.S.? SOME DAYS SUCK! There’s  just no other way to say it! Even B.G.D. (Before Gregger Died) I had those sucky days, but they were different. Somehow the sucky days always had a luminous light at the end…I always knew sunshine would walk in the door around 7 pm and brighten my day…or at least give it his best shot. He tried, lord knows he tried, but I could be harder than a brick wall. I had my own PMS…pissed, mopey, and sultry. Whether he broke through or not, I knew he was there.

P.G.D.(Post Gregger’s Death) it’s different. I have to learn how to deal with the PMS and the sucky days on my own. It’s okay…it’s just another lesson. It’s another step toward growing better, growing stronger, growing more independent. I can do this. I can get through the SUCKY days…they won’t get the best of me. I will cry…I will mope…I will be pouty…but I will get over it and move on. I will count my blessings and be grateful. Cliché? Maybe so, but it’s the best I’ve got and it gets me through the SUCK!

And a little love from Lucy doesn’t hurt either…unconditional doggy love! Yes…there is sunshine in every cloud!

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On Bended Knee

On Bended Knee

Mikki Eveloff Leave a comment

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“A good life is a collection of happy moments.” Blessings, treasures in a memory bank…a place to go when I need a hug, a smile, or some sunshine on a rainy day.  I put on my wedding band today and was reminded of Gregger’s “first” proposal…so simple, so funny, so unromantic, yet one of the happiest moments in that treasure bank. After a whirlwind romance and a trip to Disneyland I think I pretty much hounded him enough until engagement was the only thing on our minds. We both had a year left at ASU, were completely unprepared for the real world at the ripe age of 20, but “the happiest place on earth” had given us a reason to think marriage was the next and best step (or at least I thought it was and went on to convince him). He came to St. Louis to meet my crazy family over Christmas. Now that could have been the biggest mistake of my life! As he entered the house he was inundated with “noise!” Kids everywhere…one spinning cartwheels, another throwing footballs, and my parents asking what the hell he did in Iowa! This poor guy didn’t know what hit him. I thought he was going to dart out the back door and I’d never see him again, but he sat there with that twinkling smile and took it all like the gentle soul he always was…kind, compassionate, full of heart. He cheered for the cartwheels, tossed the football, and answered the questions like a sport. After a few days we were off to Iowa…then it was my turn…UGH!

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I flew off to Council Bluffs, Iowa to meet the fam. I don’t think I had the confidence of Gregger. I was definitely more timid and shy. This was my first real “meet the parents.” What if they didn’t approve? While Gregger was a pretty self-assured, independent guy, the blessing of his parents was key. If Sammy and Nonie nixed this plan, I was a goner…I was sure of that. I really wasn’t sure of anything the first few days. I didn’t know if I was just there for a “run through,” a “meet and greet” or if this was going to be the real deal. I just knew I was in it for the long haul and I was praying I got a “thumbs up.”

imageLife long friends of the in-laws and Gregger’s, the Gallners, were throwing us a welcome party on Sunday night. This was extremely kind since we weren’t officially engaged. I was just the girl from St. Louis. Here comes the fun part…setting the scene. Standing in Gregger’s childhood room with cowboy wallpaper covering the walls, dressed in a rather ratty bathrobe and still prepping with no makeup and a head full of curlers, Gregger entered the room. I could clearly tell he had something on his mind. No flowers. No box. So this COULD NOT be the proposal. Not the romantic Gregger I knew. But…he tells me to sit down on the bed. I am in a bathrobe with curlers literally covering my head!!! He hesitates a second and says, “So we are going to this party at the Gallners tonight. Do you want to marry me?” Huh? In my dreams I had so many magical proposals. I imagined being in a beautiful setting with my love on bended knee, an open box with something glittery in front of me. I would hear these “gushy” words that I had been waiting to hear all of my life and I would melt inside, but, here was MY PRINCE in his bedroom proposing and suddenly NOTHING really mattered at all. I jumped into his arms, shouted “Yes” and then proceeded to ask in my inimitable way, “Are you sure? Are you sure? Is this for real?”

The Gregger proposed to me two more times in our forty years together, once on our 25th and again on our 35th. No fancy dinners or romantic settings – just me in my robe while prepping to go “somewhere.” This was OUR day…it never mattered what was going on in our lives, we took the time to spend this day together.  So all that really mattered was that my Prince Gregger was still standing before me proclaiming his love, vowing to stay together for a lifetime. It made me believe in real fairytales. I realized Prince Charming does not have to bring the glass slipper or even the diamond ring…all he has to do is love you unconditionally, curlers and all. Although we vowed to be together for 75 years, I was blessed with just short of 39 …treasures in my memory bank that fill my heart with love. image

 

 

The House that is a Home

The House that is a Home

Mikki Eveloff Leave a comment

imageApril is the 21st anniversary in our home…21 years! We moved around a lot in the first 18 years of our marriage, beginning in the typical apartment to starter home and moving on up from there. All in all we moved 8 times with a few temporary houses in between. We always built rather than buying something a little older and remodeling…Gregger always wanted to attempt that, but he never had time. Building from the ground up was difficult enough with his schedule, but somehow we made it work.

Our first big investment was in 1978 when we purchased a Suggs semi-custom in McCormick Ranch. It had the best of the 80’s…drab olive, burnt orange and horrific plaids! It was a huge stretch for our budget but we convinced our young 24-year old selves that it was going to be the best investment we ever made. We carefully selected carpet, cabinets, and all the trimmings making it our perfect first house and the perfect place to start our family. But…after 2 years, we were ready to move on, and ready to “add on.” This seemed to be our pattern for the next ten years. I think it was the years of “building fever.” It seemed that just as soon as we got settled somewhere we would sell and start from the ground up again. Along with the building “fever” came “baby fever” – our family had suddenly grown from two to five.

Once the kids started school we settled down a bit. They had neighborhood friends and, back in those days, they could play outside, ride their bikes, and pretty much come and go without much worry. The boys were getting extremely involved in sports, but starting to focus intensely on tennis. We were spending our weekends traveling from one tournament to the next and weekdays were consumed with lessons and drills. We thought it would be so great to have our own court where they could practice and play ALL the time, so the hunt was on! We broke ground sometime in the summer of 1993 and the house was finished just in time to debut for Ryan’s Bar Mitzvah in April 1994.

A House is Made of Bricks and Beams…A Home is Made of Hopes and Dreams

The memories behind these walls are priceless…so many changes over so little time. The kids have grown from youngsters and teens to adults. Gregger and I went from full-time parenting to empty nesters. Adam and Ashley were married. We became grandparents to two beautiful children. The parties…if walls could talk! We had so many wonderful parties for us, the kids, and friends. I walk from room to room, I look out the window, I hear the voices, I see the faces. It is heart wrenching to let it go. But it is time. It is just too much for me without the one person who made this a home. This was OUR HOME. All of the other places became houses once we moved here. Gregger and I talked about moving for a very long time. We were going to move closer to store to make his life easier, but we never did. We were going to remodel, update, do this or that. We never did. This was still OUR HOME. It was a place filled with so much love, so many memories, something no one will ever take away from me. But at some point I must walk away and start over somewhere else. It just is not the same without Gregger. It is quiet. It is empty. I miss the noise. I miss the laughter. I miss there being more than just me. But it is still, and always will be, my HOME.

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The Suite Case - A True Love Fairytale

The Suitcase

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a place for everything

You can tell a lot about a man by the way he packs his clothes. Percentage weighs heavily on the side of women packing for their men, whether it be that men don’t want to be bothered or they just don’t know how. In my case, the Gregger was clearly the BETTER PACKER! In fact, he was OCD meticulous! Packing for a trip in this house could literally lead to World War III. Our big issue…I was “check-in” and he was “carry on!”  To the Gregger, packing was an architechural or engineering project using every dimension of the smallest proportion to get as much as possible into the smallest space. On the other hand, I was totally inept when it came to packing. No matter how hard I tried to limit myself, I would overpack “just in case.” So we bantered back and forth. His point: I overpacked, would never wear it all, and it was a waste of space. My point: I would be best prepared for all occasions, all moods, which, in the end, would make him abundantly happier! His point: he was efficient, precise, and a time-saver (no waiting for bags, no chance of lost baggage, etc.). My point: when traveling, who cares? Chill out!

Needless to say, the bantering continued just about every time either or both of us traveled. I think it became some sort of game. He would certainly not dare give in to more than one suitcase, lest he show any sign of packing weakness. And, I certainly would never learn to pack less than half my closet!

 

suitcases 2

Now for most people packing is a day before, night before happening. Not in our house. This was literally a 2-3 day affair. I kid you not! Day one: the rolling rack appeared in the bedroom so Gregger could start “pulling” his clothes. This was a painstaking, detail-oriented affair focused on fusing the necessary pieces into the perfect ensembles. Minimilization was key…the fewer the pieces to mix and match the bigger the win! Rules of the game: one or two sport coats for a four or five day trip, a shirt for every day, maybe one or two extra “just in case,” and generally two or three pants that were rotated. Everything mixed and matched to perfection. Then came shoes to coordinate (he was only allotted a certain number), socks and underwear for everyday (obviously for Mr. Meticulous!), pocket squares for the super savvy, and then the royal dobb kit! Now that was a packing procedure in itself. Every item had its own plastic bag, wrapped again in more plastic and then placed sequentially as if solving a puzzle. It was quite the process.

Our last trip together was no different. The rolling rack appeared in the bedroom by Wednesday. Shorts, t-shirts, Lulu outfits, and underwear were laid out by Thursday. The good shirts were carefully hung and were folded and wrapped (yes, wrapped in plastic!) on Friday. I was so excited for the trip I didn’t care how he went about packing. At this point it was fun watching him make it all work. In the meantime I had emptied more than half my closet into two full suitcases and was very ready to go! When all was said and done, we jammed 9 suitcases and 5 backpacks into the van upon arrival in Maui! We were prepared for just about anything…well, just about anything.

In 40 years I NEVER once packed for the Gregger. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to. I just knew I could never do it the way he did. I don’t think anyone could! It was truly an art. Packing and unpacking was his thing. He knew where things went and how to put them away. I certainly never wanted my first packing experience to be the one it turned out to be, but I had no choice. September 3rd I was faced with the most difficult packing chore of my life. Not only did I have to pack Gregger’s suitcase, but I had to return home without him. This was something I had to do alone. I spent some time folding, sorting, and trying to carefully place each item the way he would want me to, but eventually I just didn’t care anymore. I threw away the plastic bags we had saved for years. I tossed shoes in on top of clothes and ignored the rule of wrapping. The tears were flowing too heavily. I just needed to get that bag packed somehow. Each shirt reminded me of something. The only thing I took special care with was his straw hat. I wrapped it, stuffed it, and protected it. I knew how much that hat meant to him, and it would forever remind me of our last trip together. He would hate the way I packed that suitcase.

I was cleaning my closet the other day and thought, “Okay it’s time, but, as always I stopped in my tracks.” The vivid, lime green duffle still lies on the floor, unpacked. I move it from side to side. I open it now and then thinking I might start to unpack, but then I put everything back in place. It just seems too final. I will unpack it one of these days, but until then, I see it everyday and it’s just a little piece of the Gregger that is still there. It reminds me of his meticulous nature, his savvy style, and our quirky bantering over silly things. I’m just not ready to let it go. I will be soon enough. 2013-09-21 06.08.27

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Birds In Love - A True Love Fairytale

The Love Birds

Mikki Eveloff Leave a comment

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This is the tale of two love birds, a tale of love, loss, and sorrow. A tale of fate, choices, and destiny that reminds us whatever the plan, there is no plan. Captivated by an early sunrise and the quiet solitude of the morn, I was startled by a thunderous crash outside my window. Afraid to look out, I slowly peeked out to find one quail fluttering to the ground in desperation, while another hovered over, bobbing it’s head back and forth. I literally felt helpless, but a rush of emotions and memories came flooding back to me. I don’t want to sound heartless, but I am generally not a huge bird lover. They kind of scare me. This was so different. These birds were so connected. The poor bird who survived was so distraught, so alone, and so lost without his mate that I suddenly forgot I was watching two birds. He circled the dead bird over and over again and then stopped. He stood over him, head bent forward and just paused. Then he would start circling again.

I walked outside not knowing what to do. The quail sauntered into the bushes when he heard my steps and then slowly made his way back to his mate. I observed from afar and my eyes filled with tears as I watched him circling again and again as if his mate would revive somehow. He would wail these sing-song sounds as if beckoning friends or family to join him but none came. I was so incredibly touched by the dedication, love, and commitment. Iimage realized that life is just as unpredictable for these poor birds. A morning that began with a carefree flight, wings spread in the clear, blue sky ended just as suddenly and unexpectedly with tragedy. They were clearly love birds, soul mates as this bird was still bobbing and circling on my patio seven hours later.

It reminded me of our day on the beach. We drove 45 minutes to Kaanapali with not a care in the world, seeking cloudless skies on the other side of the island.  We chose Black Beach because two days earlier had been so memorable…perfect waves, white sand, clear blue water. We hugged, we kissed, we said “I love you” and Gregger walked into those sparkling waters never to walk out again. Just like the quails who chose their path this morning, I think about the “what ifs.” What if we had chosen a different beach? What if Gregger had never gone snorkeling? What if the quails flew in a different direction? What if they flew just a bit higher and missed my clear window? But what ifs are pointless…the minister who spent the day with us August 30th made us promise to stop the “what ifs,” “if onlys” and “why didn’t we just.” Just like the quails who chose their path today, we chose ours. I used to believe that everything happens for a reason. I am still seeking whatever that reason must be. But like the love birds today, fate stepped in and life ended. No explanation, no time to prepare…just over in a flash. I sat and watched that poor quail all day long. I believe he finally gave up after about nine treacherous hours. I’m not sure where he went or why he decided to leave, but I continued to hear the wailing of those quails in my backyard all afternoon. I hope he found his peace just as I am slowly finding mine. When I believed he had gone, I chose to put his mate to rest so he could be at peace too.

At some time we all wish we could hit the stop button, pause, rewind, and have the opportunity to ask “what if?” But we can’t. I look to skies and ask, “Why Gregger? Why that day?” But there are no answers. There are only messages. Love unconditionally. Forgive. Be grateful for today. Cherish the simple moments. Live compassionately. Be kind. Live the way Gregger would have lived and find a little more peace each and every day. I think he would be happy with that and so am I.

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The Letter - A true love fairytale

The Letter

Mikki Eveloff Leave a comment

GreggerI was the writer in the family. But on the Hallmark occasions Gregger came through. Always two.. one, mushy, sweet, romantic and another, goofy with sexual inuendos. No complaints…I knew too many people who came up empty-handed. Signed with special messages of love, I saved just about every one. Boxes and boxes of all cards and letters dating back forty years. We were Hallmark’s dream couple. Digging through my closet today I discovered a different kind of Love Letter from the Gregger…this wasn’t covered in flowers or caricatures with sexy bodies…it was a Family Love Letter for A Time of Confusion. I don’t ever remember seeing this letter, although I have vague memories of discussing something like this. It must have been one of the moments I turned off, tuned out, and buried my head in the sand. He must have been talking death, dying, or something that was completely unforseeable in my present state. I had no use for such inane conversations…little did I know this WAS my FUTURE.

 Gregger was the guy who smiled…at everyone. He never let you know if he was having a good day or a bad day. Gregger wanted to hear YOUR story. He wanted to make things better for you…fix things. He was the GIVER, never the taker.  Gregger started writing this letter in May of 2012. It tells a tale of a wonderful husband and father who lay awake at night because he:

  • did not feel he was providing well enough for his family
  • knew he was not taking good enough care of himself
  • worried about the “what ifs”
  • worried he could lose everything he worked for
  • worried about his family’s security
  • believed he was making a living, but not making a life
  • wanted to do more, be more for his family
  • knew his work was never done…always thinking of ways to be bigger, better, greater, grander

I can’t say I didn’t know. I begged to lift the load or at least lighten it a little…he wanted to carry it all. He was SUPER GREGGER. He worked hard, played hard, loved hard, and, obviously, worried hard. He worried about me, the kids, but he did it with a smile. He would tell me he had a bad day, but then he would say it would all be okay. Nothing bad ever lasted more than a few minutes. He wouldn’t let it, or he wouldn’t let me see it.  In the true essence of the word, he was our Hero…the man with the HEART of GOLD. Gregger could never do enough, be enough, give enough. He would drop anything for just about anyone, anywhere, anytime. Even while on vacay in Maui he was trying to get special buttons for one of his clients. He was searching his Ipad every morning in desperation. Really? Wasn’t he supposed to be taking a break? Not the Gregger! It was the best of him, the worst of him. It was what made him Gregger. The best answers came in Gregger’s Love Letter…

What do you want to be known for? “Being a good person.” A good person? Gregger…you were a GREAT person. You were the BEST person I will ever know.

What is most important to you? “My family.” Yes, Gregger…we feel your love each and every day. We feel it from the clouds, the sun, and the stars.

And we are all better people because you touched our lives.Gregger thinking

 

Forty Shades of “Gray”

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“Love hard when there is love to be had. Because perfect guys don’t exist, but there’s always one guy that is perfect for you.”  

No bondage, no domination, no submission, just the subdued blending of black and white into the compromising shades of gray.  Gregger was MY perfect. While I consider our love story one filled with love and  passion, we were no Christian and Ana… no contracts, just vows and commitments, no S & M, just support and mindfulness.

 

My 40 Shades of Gray is something that comes with the maturity of wedded bliss…it’s learning to soften the lines between his black and my white (or my black and his white), conforming to the perfect shades of gray.  Practice makes perfect (well almost), and practice we did…so many situations, so many encounters, requiring FLC…Flexibility, Listening, Communication. From parenting issues to how to load a dishwasher or which way the toilet paper rolls and everything in between, our grays changed from dark to light, from light to dark. Sometimes it was the petty things and other times it was the gargantuan elephant in the room, but at the end of the day, the blending of shades required the fundamental principles that make any team work, or at least OUR team.

He was the party guy…I was the stay at home girl.

He was a sports fanatic…I loved reality and drama.

He was the daredevil…I was the timid, reluctant one.

He was suits, sportcoats, and savvy…I was sweats, a little stylishly chic.

He was hard-core Jamesons…I was sip-it-slow Pinot.

He was spoil ’em with boundaries…I was overindulge.

He was a saver…I was spend, spend, spend.

He was pragmatic…I was quixotic.

He washed and loaded…I wiped and straightened.

He retreated…I shouted.

We blended just fine over the past 40 years.  We learned life is never perfect…love is never perfect…and, certainly marriage is never perfect. But, working together to achieve the perfect shade of gray, well…that’s what made it PERFECT every day. That’s what made it all worthwhile.

 

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