Throughout my career with the Federal government, I’ve done many public speaking engagements throughout the country. Always speaking to similar groups and often times same persons from various states on the programs I administer for the Department of Education. Public speaking is never easy for me. In fact, I hate it. With each speech or presentation I give, there are always those butterflies in the pit of my stomach. Seconds before I’m called to the podium, I feel like I’m going to puke. You know in college or in high school speech class, everyone gives you that one piece of advice: just imagine everyone in the audience in their underwear. That never works. And, somehow, I think it’s really inappropriate in this circumstance. One thing I know works like a charm to break that ice and ease the nerves, is humor. Grandma loved humor; she loved to laugh.

These words I wish to share today, they’re different from all the dozens of speeches I’ve made in the past. Different, because these words are so personal; I’m speaking about someone I love dearly; I’m speaking to family and people I love. I speak these words not as a Federal employee, but rather a grandchild, from the heart and through emotion. And for all you that know me, I’m an emotionally based person. Blame Cheryl [mom] for this.

I just ask that you all bear with me as I try to get through these words.

In the eyes of a child, grandmothers are the perfect parent. I was blessed with two, however unique in their own ways, two wonderful people I called grandma. Grandma Hunter was an amazing woman and she meant the world to me. She loved her children. She loved her grandchildren. And she always let me know how much she loved me. With every hug, and grandma gave many, many hugs; with every hug, “I love you, Greggie. God bless you Greg.” She was a loving woman. She was a very strong woman, who cared deeply for each and every one of us. She always worried enough for everyone. She was a hard worker. She raised six children. I can’t imagine, I have ONE. The dedication, strength and love to do what she did. She was very strong, stronger than even she ever realized. The struggles and times she endured. To lose both your parents, in an instant, so young. To lose a child, so young. And to lose and be left behind by one of the greatest men I’ve ever known. Yes, she was strong.

We all travel through life carrying with us our childhood memories. Some we’d just assume forget. And then there are the beautiful memories we hope we never do. Memories we want to hold on to. Many of my favorite, childhood memories are of times spent at grandma and grandpa’s house on Brooks Road. I spent a lot of time there growing up. For several stretches throughout my childhood, I don’t think there was a week that went by that we didn’t visit grandma and grandpa’s house. Sometimes a couple times a week. I can recall more than a few occasions of having to count pennies for gas money, so we could go visit grandma and grandpa. I spent many weekends there during my summers. I helped grandpa clear the back forty. I truly enjoyed spending time there on Brooks Road with my grandparents.

Favorite childhood memories--Hunter get-togethers; Christmas time. They were the best, some of the happiest times for me as a child, a very lonely child, in ways most may not understand. I had so many cousins. And those get-togethers were so important to me. I felt like I was in the thick of it. Smack dab in the middle of some of the greatest, and most accepting kids I’ve known. Hunter picnics and family get-togethers in the summer time; games in the back yard, running and playing and laughing. Grandma was the essential piece in all of those get-togethers. She loved her family getting together, it was important to her. Shortly after her diagnoses and being told she had little time left, she wanted her family to get-together, to see her family together again one last time. And near the very end, she wanted her kids there by her side as she was so anxious for yet another get-together that was about to take place.

I told you, Grandma, that last Sunday, we’ll all be okay. We’ll be okay because you were a great parent. A mother, a grandma, a great grandma. We’ll never forget you. I’ll never forget. I’ll remember all those things that were uniquely you: the smell of Dove soap; sticks of Double Mint gum; your zucchini bread; sticky, colorful, Christmas candy at Christmas time; your ugly housecoats; slipper socks; Ponderosa after church; the dozens of crazy diets; your lead foot in that little Honda civic. I too prefer to eat my apples sliced with a knife and I don’t have false teeth.

I just want to thank you, for being my grandmother. Thank you for your strength, for your humor and laughs. For having such strong faith, but not preaching it, rather living it without judgment. Thank you, grandma, for loving me unconditionally. For accepting and loving my partner, Greg, years before the words were spoken. Thank you for sharing just how happy my family made you. Thank you for your time and creating such beautiful memories. I love you.

And I thank all of you, my family and extended family, for allowing me to speak today and too, for all the wonderful childhood memories I cherish.

Thank you.
Greggie