Greg was born in New Haven, Connecticut on July 18, 1968 to Kenneth and the late Lois (Hatch) Aldrich. He died suddenly on December 9, 2008 at age 40. He is much loved and will always be remembered by all his friends and family. Gail's Eulogy: Where to begin My dear brother I love, To speak on your life I’m not worthy of. To capture your essence A task monumental, My best I will try So be not judgmental. It’s just that the grief Runs so deep as I fumble, Through memories and words Than come back in a jumble. Ever precocious A young lad so able, To converse with adults At the kitchen table. When you were a boy About 12 or 13, You’d bring me the milk from the fridge for my tea. Then I remember When Shebe was a pup, You served me my tea In your prized Pink Floyd cup. Watching you grow It became quite apparent, Your talents were boundless As well as inherent. Clever, quite witty With a tongue of sword steel, You could dazzle the wizards And then turn on your heel. In a battle of wits You were second to none, Leaving only one standing Yes, it was you with the gun. A master of verbiage I’d feel surely diminished, Left scratching my head But then laughing when finished. So clever and strong A delight to behold, Your charm like a prince In the tales of old. I see you now dressed In John Anderson’s robe, Your falsetto voice Hitting every high note. From Toad’s to the Blue Note Your skills you perfected, Soaking up tricks That the masters protected. You opened my world To new things to explore, Like Ren Faires and Cloisters And Celtic folklore. It was right around then That we had discovered, Our intuition was tuned Right into each other. My pain you had felt Back in ’94, When a car crash had left me Right at death’s door. You stayed by my side And when I awoke, You helped me hang on With your smile and a joke. How remiss would I be If I failed to mention, Who brought you comfort In your moments of tension? There was Shebee, and Penny and Snowbelle so pretty, Samhain and Merlin and Kuan Yin kitty. Then came the dark days Our dear mother was dying, A vigil you kept By her bed without crying. For her sake you kept Your sadness concealed, And a tipi you built As a symbolic shield. It seems that her passing Drew together us three, We’d hang out for hours You, Kenny and me. Nostalgia, drums, laughing Coffee and singing, Telling ghost stories Such fright it would bring me. The witch of the wood, The clown and the shoe, Tales of hauntings at 122. Your signature sayings Like “Hunk o’ Junk,” How my kids referred to you Fondly as “Uncle Punk.” Those days that I cherish Had to come to an end, For new challenges awaited My brother, my friend. It seems only yesterday In 2005, When we gathered and prayed for you to survive. Like Lazarus you rose To live out your dreams, and You called on St. Michael To battle your demons. Your faith and conviction Had seen you through, And I believe that you felt You had more work to do. A new love you’d found And said how very strange, Her family’s like ours With all the same names. You brought friendship and peace To her three awesome sons, And a fulfilling new life You had only just begun. It seems quite ironic Now that I’ve spoken, Your heart was so perfect And yet it was broken. To sum up your life In a few words or less, You fought like a champion And loved with the best. Till one day we meet Again little brother, Rest in peace now Go up And take care of our mother.