I want to share a little piece of Greg — the version of him that lived in his friendships, in all the many stories he told me, and in the things he fixed without needing recognition. Even though many of you knew him long before I came into his life, the way he spoke about you made me feel like I’d known you too. Your names, your adventures, your inside jokes — they were part of our everyday life. Greg had this beautiful patience about him. He could fix anything — hot tubs, electrical messes, cars, vans, home repairs that should’ve required a whole team — and he did it calmly, happily, like it was the most natural thing in the world. I’d watch him sometimes, tools in hand, brows furrowed in concentration, and the moment something finally clicked, he’d give that little grin and say, “Right On” I can still hear it so clearly. He never turned anyone away. If a friend needed help, he was already halfway out the door. And what always moved me was how he stayed connected to people — even his ex-girlfriends remained close because, in his heart, once he cared about someone, that bond stayed. He loved deeply and quietly and consistently. Losing him to colon cancer this past January broke something in me that I don’t think will ever be fully repaired, but the stories you’ve shared, and the stories he shared about you for years, have become some of the strongest pieces I have left. Through them, I still see the man who loved fixing things, who loved helping, who loved his people fiercely. Thank you for honoring Greg’s memory through this fund. Your generosity keeps his spirit moving forward — that steady kindness, that willingness to show up, that simple “Right On” way of making the world work again.❤️