mom letter

Letters to Greg from Mom

April 9, 2004 6:30 a.m.
Oh my darling son, Greg, how can you be gone? You are our sunshine. You are so strong and smart and righteous. You have given us such joy for 23 years. We are so lucky to have had you in our lives. You always worked so hard on every thing from school to work to sports, friends, and family. You were so caring and loving and concerned for others. Oh so thoughtful and right. You learned so much over the years. I wish we could have talked more about all your knowledge. You knew everything about sports, movies, books…. remember how you just won Trivial pursuit with your friends 3 times in a row? You said no one wanted to play with you and Jenny anymore because you always won at trivia and she at scrabble. You are going to be missed by so many people. You brought sunshine into the lives of everyone you knew.
Dad and I cannot even take a breath; we are so devastated by your death. We have each other and your wonderful brothers as comfort, but not you. It has been so wonderful having you home since you graduated from college. Seeing you and Chris get into sports and comic discussions was so much fun to watch. You played your trombone with Paul on saxophone several times. It was such a warm feeling to see you so interested in others. You complemented him on his playing and what a good ear he has. I am so relieved that you and Mike had time together in St. Paul. It was the best that you were there for his 21st birthday. Your love and caring for your family will get us through. Life will not be the same ever again. We all have big holes in our hearts. We will love and miss you forever.

May 16, 2004
Dear Greg,
We miss you so much. How could we lose you so easily? Wasn’t our love and concern enough to hold you to this earth? Could we have prevented this accident by calling you earlier that evening? Or reminding you that Chris had a track meet that night? Or that it was the night of the Jazz Café?

Every morning I wake up remembering something about you I want to write down.
We cannot believe you have been gone for 5 weeks. We miss the sound of your voice. We miss your: “He-llo?” when you came home. Your “How’s your day”? Your “See, I was thinkin that if…..” We miss all your math figurings about this and that. And you can be sure we miss the path of Greg stuff you would leave every where, by the front door and in your room.

Dad and I had to go through all your belongings already to get your room ready for Grandma and Grandpa, Mary S. and Mike. We just finished last night. You saved everything. It was a joy to relive your life from the first book you dictated to me when you were 4, to the newspapers in your backpack dated 12/15/03, the last day on campus. Birthday cards from all 23 years, your 2nd grade journals, your college papers. We found 2 sonnets that you had written in 98. One for Jenny and one for your dad. They were so well written and filled with love. As dad and I were sobbing, I reached into the last box and randomly pulled out a folded piece of paper. There was one neatly written sentence on this full sheet of paper with no date. It said in your neatest jr. high or high school print “I am truly happy to be here.” Signed Greg Vasich. We took that as a message from you at one of our lowest times that your are fine in heaven.

You lived a wonderful life. You wrote about each stage of your life in all your journals.

At Maplebrook you wrote about wanting to play outside all day, having longer recesses, if you were the teacher you would have recess all day, that no matter how hard you practiced and wrote your ABC’s they still looked messy…that you thought your family was kind and fun. Then you began to be interested in sports and you had lots of entries about da Bears, Sox, Blackhawks and Bulls.

In junior high you wrote book reports from authors Tom Clancy, John Grisham, Michael Crichton and many more. You again wrote a lot of things about sports, Walter Payton, the Cubbies, the Olympics, your own teams. You wrote about your football card collection, Magic the Gathering and family vacations.

In high school you wrote about your dad, Jenny, your brothers and then all those required topics that go with the classes you took. You did a speech about the 81 Pontiac Bonneville. Your teacher seemed to like it very much. There were notes from friends, jokes from friends, ticket stubs from sports games, movies and concerts you had gone to. Mementos from Germany and Disney band trips. Awards, pins and certificates for work well done and events you participated in. There were marching band photos, homecoming and prom mementos and senior pictures from 20 or so friends. There were handouts on Engineering and your orientation to U of I. Your books, movies, papers and CD’s are so diverse. You have books on Chaucer, Shakespeare, Joyce, women’s issues, minority issues, film, and cinemas studies, Poker, Europe, to name a few. I guess we could write them all down just to have a list to keep. There are so many things we do not want to forget.

Of course we will never stop loving and missing you. There are just so many things we did not know about you, things we never discussed. We miss you so much. You were loved by so many.

Oh, Greg, we are so sorry you could not live out your life. You worked so hard on everything. You were very prepared for a good life, you had found true love in Jenny and you studied hard and worked hard in every aspect of your day. We mourn your future lost. We are sad, but we are most sorry for you and then Jenny, that you could not fulfill your dreams. We hope you are happy in heaven. We hope God has given you a good and important job. It seems you have tried to let us know you are OK. We have had dreams; we saw your eulogy in church on Mother's Day and then your note last night. We hope you are truly happy in God’s home. We can’t wait to see you again. You can bet we all will be as good as we can so we can be together again.
Love, mom.