Eulogy for Greg, with love, Carrie

Greg was 42 years old, but lived like a 28-year-old: He and Frankie had bee married for less than two years, and only in their most drunken moments had they discussed the possibility of kids. He was an avid feminist and socialist-leaning leftie who loved lesbian folk rock, drank tall glasses of milk daily and never turned down a piece of berry pie.

Greg called shirts "tops" and wore them, unabashedly, in shades of pink and yellow. He was a closet Madonna fan, a closet Catholic, and, like the good Canadian he was, a devoted fan of curling. Greg loved, like the good Brooklyn tech-geek-hipster that he was, Facebook, Dodgeball, NYU's student tech exhibition, MOMA, Scrabble, picnics in Prospect Park , hipster bars, dive bars, crazy parties, live music and, most of all, dancing.

Greg danced, as one close friend so aptly put it, "like no one was watching." And that was how he lived all of his life. When he indulged, he did so in style, drinking until he'd closed the bar and everyone else had gone home. He'd periodically splurge at Barney's or somewhere in Soho . He was inclined to wear oversized wool sweaters in an homage to his Canadian roots. His and Frankie's house was filled with Canadian candy bars, as he insisted that American chocolate was shit. He loved milkshakes and hated peanut butter, really, anything with nuts in it, but peanut butter especially.

Greg collected people, usually displaced ones, and made them feel immediately at home with his generous and self-depricating manner. It was one of the reasons why he had such a devoted following at the hospital: All of Greg's close friends were considered his family.

Greg never picked a fight on his own behalf, but would defend the underdog at whatever cost. He spent a year in Ghana teaching computer literacy as part of his passionate belief that access to knowledge can help people create better lives for themselves. He worked at BN.com, AOL.com, and, strangely, the government of Qatar . Greg had just been accepted into a Masters program at Columbia , specializing in international human rights, which he would have started in the fall. He could be supremely generous, openhearted and kind -- and he could also be snarky, in the gayest of ways. Greg Sewell was funny and fresh and loved.

We miss you, Greg. Come visit us sometimes in the early morning hours of sleep, when we're most open, and we'll catch up. You've all kinds of new things to tell us about where you've been.

With great love.
CSB