22 months

(If you are going to read this, please read all the way to the end-that is where the important stuff is)

Just over 22 months ago, I lost my best friend.

This is my first major public statement about it. I had a flash on inspiration last night.

On Feb. 4th, 2008, I received a phone call. It was my mother, right before I was leaving to go climbing for the night.

I will never forget what that call did. It changed my life. It brought me to my knees, it stopped my heart, it stole the words right from my mouth. It totally transformed my life.

My best friend was dead. July 5th, 2006, he was hit by a car while biking. He was in a coma, followed by brain damage. Then, on Feb 4th, 2008, he was taken from me.

Then, without warning, he passed away. Before he could get his Eagle scout, before I could say goodbye, and well before his time.

I remember the funeral. We made the decision to give him his Eagle scout award during the wake. I was able to say about 2 lines before I choked up-it was the second time that I had done that in a year-the other was at my Eagle ceremony, when I had my honor guard march down the aisle in the missing man formation-with one spot open, the one that should have been his.

I got through the funeral. I remember standing there, with my good friends, huddled in a small group with everyone else milling around us. I remember the drive to the cemetery, and the laying of the coffin.

Shortly thereafter, I recieved a gift from his mother-a button, made during a high school politics class. It features his picture, and is on the visor in my car.

I carry my Eagle scout ID, and a pendant, at all times. They serve not only as reminders of him, but the change that he caused in my life.

What people may not know about this story is that, 2 weeks before he was hit, I was hit by a car while biking.

I walked away with barely a scratch.

Being a Christian, I spent many nights praying, yelling, pleading, wondering why I was spared, and he was not. Wondering what my greater purpose was in this whole thing we call life.

That is why I do what I do. He is why I stay up all night, why I push so hard, why I hate standing idly by.

These last 22 months, there have been several times that I have been asked how I pull it off, or why I do it.

Greg is the reason I do what I do, and will keep doing it. Never have I been, nor will I ever be, so profoundly affected by one person’s life.

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