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Greg
Greg loved the pyramids –
but not because they were serious.
He loved them because they were
impossible. Because someone once looked at empty desert
and said, why not?
Because history, for all its weight,
still leaves room for laughter.
Greg loved life that way.
Curious. Playful. Wide-open.
He could turn a fact into a story,
a story into a joke,
and a room into something warmer
just by being in it.
His humor was gentle, unexpected –
the kind that caught you mid-sentence
and left you smiling without realizing why.
That’s what I miss most.
Not the silence he left behind,
But the sound of him in the middle of living.
Greg.
Saying his name still hurts.
It matters.
Because his life wasn’t a monument –
it was motion.
It was laughter.
It was love, moving freely through the world.
And I would give anything
to hear him laugh again.
Copyright © Joy M. Mills 2026
MJM (TM)