November 19, 2013

Dear Greg,



I dreamt of you last night. You were sitting across from me at my kitchen table while I was writing. I asked if I could go with you early but you insisted I finish my work. I giggled this morning when I awoke. I was probably writing an article for Recovery Today that you asked me to do with a two-hour deadline.


I met you so long ago it feels as if I have always known you. I’d just returned from Germany with an infant son when I made the trek to Round Rock to find out what the job you hired me to do would entail. I made that trek monthly for seven years. It was usually related to business, but you welcomed me into your home and always invited my mom and son, too. Caleb still remembers that you were clever enough to give him juice boxes with covers so he couldn’t squeeze the juice out of the top. You and I “got” the others peculiar personalities. Perhaps, it is in the similarity of our religious and family backgrounds that many of our connections were made.

It was you who introduced me to speaking on a larger stage, who allowed me to meet so many influential people, who I have to “blame” for my state involvement with TAAP and NAADAC. You pushed me to be a leader and encouraged me that I had the strengths to get through each battle.

No matter how much time passed between our visits you always remembered details of my life and asked about them. You were selfless in writing the recommendation letter for my current position, even knowing I would be unable to continue doing work for you. You called and cared when things were happening in my life. I suspect you called and cared about many, as if they were exceptionally special.

Greg, my mentor, my friend, my advisor, my go-to-guy, you were a unique man with an incredible heart. Your value and place in the addiction field and recovery community will be missed.

About that dream, when I did finish writing….I asked you to dance but told you I didn’t know how. You took my hand and began to dance with me flawlessly and said, “I don’t know how to dance either, but I don’t think that matters here.”



RIP Greg.