Not Gregory, and not Gregg, with two G's. But Greg. Yep... That's my Brother. (my little brother) He's 30 today. 30!! Holy cow! Greg, I suppose I just never thought you would get old. And 30's not really old!! But, when speaking of your "little" brother, 30 just sounds like a weird word to say.
Okay, so Greg is and just may be the FUNNIEST PERSON in our ENTIRE FAMILY!!! Yes, everyone has one, and in our family, we are lucky enough to have Greg as ours. This guy is smart... fast... witty... brilliant... caring... and has probably the best laugh I have ever heard in my life. Still unmatched.
I miss my brother. I think that's not too unatural... Greg and I were typical brothers back in the day... We fought, we laughed, we fought some more, we played, we fought a little bit more, and sometimes, just sometimes, we smiled. Last time I saw Greg was his wedding. After that, I hopped on a plane and went back to Nebraska. (I was on borrowed time with work.)
Greg and I have had this dream that we would always live next door to each other and our kids would play together. I suppose I messed up that part of the plan. Sorry, bro. I wish I had a scanner. I really do. There are some GREAT pictures of Greg that I would love to upload, but however, I do not. So, there may or may not be a picture that I can add to this. Actually, here's a tid bit of info. Greg had this stuffed animal named "Henry" since he was just a squirt. Well, after years of resewing by my "master" sewing Dad (whom I probably get my knack of sewing from) Henry had been repaired atleast 30 times. Missing 1/2 his sewing after years of dog chewing, brother ripping, tug of wars and just all around loving, Henry was finally buried in the backyard of our Molalla home on Hwy 211. I think that Greg buried a piece of his soul that day. Very sad. It's hard letting go of your childhood. My childhood stuffed animal (George) was burned in a house fire, shortly after Greg's "Henry" was buried. I guess that's just fate. Well, one year, it occured to me after talking with Greg online about different things and "Henry" came up. So, I got to researching and looking around and in Colorado of all places, I found one. Unreal. So after another couple of weeks of bargaining and scamming and all around giving in... It was mailed to my house. JACKPOT!!! Well, couple of weeks later... It was in a box on the way to Oregon. Greg got it a couple days later and as I understand it, was "kinda happy." Great moment.
Look, there are numerous Mark and Greg stories; There's Greg at Rockaway dancing and being the goof ball for the family while playing UNO. There's the Greg who hit a parked truck while on his bike looking at me and talking and then... BAM!! There's the Greg who used to stay up with me at Aunt Donna's house playing with our stuffed animals Henry and Tim and George, laughing our ASSES off till midnight then passing out from exhaustion. There's the Greg that used to ride with me to 7-11 and drink slushee's and play video games. Then take the long ride back home with one hand on the bike and one hand clutching our drinks. Then, there's the Greg fell off his bike, chin first, then a year later rode a skateboard on his stomach and hit a hole. It's a vision of Greg wearing a "wildlife safari" shirt with a "V" shaped area of blood covering half his shirt, holding his chin and a lady walking him home. Amazing. Greg's tough. There's the Greg that I took to get his FIRST TATTOO (pre-graduation present, good thing he graduated) Then there's the Greg who asked if we could have an Exchange Student from Colombia live with us (Marcel... What a great year.) Then there's the Greg who was brave and held his composure until the minute I had to leave home. Backing up in my S-10, there was Greg. Teary eyed and saying goodbye. Tough moment for me. I imagine it was just as tough for him. There was his big brother, being told to leave. And he had just a coulpe of minutes muster up the courage to say goodbye. Then, there's the Greg that I remember the most. Infact, when I think of Greg, this is the picture I get in my mind's eye... It' Greg, one leg cocked up on the running board of Dad's Van (which he still has to this day,) he's got huge shades on, must be about 4, wearing period 70's clothes that were probably my hand me downs, green shirt, straight brown hair, and a huge Greg Smile. Now that's the Greg that basically defined him even to this day. Smiles, and standing on his own.
I have a hard memory for me of Greg in tears at my Marine Corps Graduation. He later told me that he was envious of me and even tried to join the Marines just after that. It was at that point that I think Greg and I hugged more often and became really "close." Now, Greg and I are HORRIBLE at calling each other and I feel bad about that. I think we get that from our Dad. But, that's just the way we are. We don't call. We still love each other. We just don't call. Anyway, things in the past 5 years have gone from confusing to Perfect. He's got a great wife, great kids, great job, and an overall great life. It feels good. We, as a family, used to worry about Greg A LOT!! But, not anymore.
Greg... I will try to call you (that means that I'm going to call, it's just up to you to answer) and tell you Happy Birthday. Alright, little brother, I love you and take care.
Mark
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