Greg was so adept with language, with putting his own turn on a phrase, making up expressions. So many of you know his sign off, "with hugs and Irish kisses." He also had other expressions, sometimes just for one person. One of ours was "an elbow to the head."
More than ten years ago, but less than twenty, I was dumped by a guy who was cheating on me. (It's funny now to think of how dramatic high school was, but he never laughed at me to my face). Greg took me driving that night and after he said all the usual fatherly expressions (but most in language not for mixed company), he pulled over in a parking lot. He remarked how pain is something that someone else can help with, but in the end you figure a way out on your own. Then he leaned over to give me a hug but in the cramped quarters of the car he ended up elbowing me right in the side of the head. It became a standing expression for when something went wrong and he wanted to comfort me. It could be as small as a disappointment or as grave as a death. If he was too far away, he'd say it on the phone or send it in a letter. Not a hug, not a kiss, but it was more special because it was our own thing.
I miss those elbows to the head. Those won't come again, but a lasting gift from Greg was to create such a strong network of family and friends to hold me up in this difficult time. My mom and I thank you so much for all of your words. They are gifts.
1 comment:
you know what I miss? hearing his perspective on the news, watching him mow the yard (without a shirt on!!)seeing his do-lists plastered on the kitchen cupboard, coming home and telling him "yay! all my blood tests came back normal!!", hearing him talking to the tv late at night, hearing him hang up his keys when he gets home, getting tator tot casserole made for supper, hearing pool balls clacking in the office, having him tuck residual checks into my bra as a surprise, watching him read, hearing him sing to Dillon at night, waking up in the morning and having all the dishes done, hearing the fan behind the closed door during his nap time...and mostly, just knowing someone so well, who knew me so well, that words were optional.......
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