Meredith Greeno

            When I think of Reid I don’t merely see a cousin.  I see perfection.  I see strength.  I see compassion.  I see intelligence.  I see smiles.  I see laughter.  I see millions of memories.  And I see someone who was so much more than just my cousin.  He was more like my brother, more like a part of me. 

Thinking back to the very beginning, I can remember the first time that I truly realized how much I enjoyed being around him.  We were at Discovery Zone for one of his birthday parties and I was running around trying to keep up with Reid and Alexander.  All of a sudden, Alexander turns around and looks at me, then back at Reid and says, “Let’s ditch her!”  Although I know it was nothing personal, I know that Alexander didn’t mean anything by it and I know that it wasn’t cool to play with girls then, but at that moment I was just so angry that someone would try to take Reid away from me.  And now, thinking about that moment, I feel just like that little girl all over again, so angry and frustrated over why God would take Reid away from me.

            Looking into the future, I just don’t know what we’re going to do without him.  Who is going to tell when my tires need more air?  Who is going to ask for extra sour cream and tell the waitress that he needs extra because he likes it a lot?  Who is going to decide where to eat and when we eat?  Who is going to lead the pack as we ride our bikes down the Port in Maine?  Who is going to make everyone in the room laugh hysterically at every family gathering?  Who is going to tell me why my camera just isn’t as good as his?  Who am I going to roll my eyes at when Bellhorn strikes out again?  Who is going to be the OTHER brat in the family?  Who am I going to call when I need help buying ‘guy’ presents?  Who am I going to split large Bertucci’s Margarita pizzas, with extra cheese, with?  Who’s car are we going to get in when we just wanna cruise down the beach with the wind in our faces and the loudest subwoofers blasting typical Reid music?  Who will I turn to to “high-five” the next time Manny hits a home run?  How are we going to play, “Imagine If” without Reid’s input?  Who will go downstairs with a knife and check under every bed the next time the wind makes us think there’s a burglar downstairs?  Who is going to explain to parents that it is OK that he talk to their kids because he is, after all, Captain Reid?

            There have always been four of us:  Two talkative, older, fresher, more critical brats; and two younger, taller, quieter ones.  But what now?  I remember when we played “bank” at Nono’s house.  Reid and I were in charge, of course, and we never let Jane or Weston be the bankers.  Whenever we went somewhere with just one of our mothers, everyone asked if she had two sets of twins.  But what now?  Reid was always there to listen, but also to talk, of course.  Now that I’m thinking about it, I don’t know how we remained so close when we were both such blabbermouths.  But somehow we shared the spotlight.  I remember just a few months ago when we were out for dinner alone.  We spend the entire dinner discussing how crazy it was, and lucky we both were, to have truly found love at such a young age.  We talked about how great it would be when the two couples could go on a trip and how much fun we would have.  We even decided, after much debate and analysis of course, that we not go to Disney but would go somewhere tropical.  That was one of the few debates between us that actually I won.  We knew that when we grew up, we would remain close, and our kids would be the same age, grow up together, and be close just like us.  I can’t imagine my kids without his kids.

            Reid was so selfless.  He was always thinking about others.  Just a few days ago, when he was struggling to speak, he told Auntie Lorraine he wanted to buy me Britney Spears tickets.  I  would never have been able to think about someone else at a time like that.  But that was  Reid.  He was so strong, so caring, so loving, so smart, so meticulous, so special, so fun, so heroic, and so inspirational. 

            Reid, I love you and I miss you.  And I can promise you that you will always be in my heart and you will forever be a part of me.