I met Grayson in 2020, back when we were both brand-new agents with the Secret Service. We lived together in our Pembroke Pines condo, and I remember being nervous about rooming with someone I didn’t know. But the moment I met her, all of that worry disappeared.
Grayson had a light about her—an energy that immediately put you at ease. There was so much warmth in her eyes and kindness in her spirit. I’ll never forget the nights we sat on the kitchen floor, talking for hours about everything and nothing. That’s when I learned she was a true child of God—faithful, sincere, and deeply good.
She always knew exactly what to say, and more importantly, she lived what she believed. She’d make her famous caramel treats and leave them for me with funny or sweet notes—small gestures that somehow meant the world. That was Grayson: thoughtful in the quietest ways, yet her impact was anything but small.
She was a rockstar at life. If you were loved by Grayson, you felt it. She didn’t just say it—she showed it, over and over again. I looked up to her in so many ways. She just got it—how to live, how to love, how to be there for people. She was loyal. She was nurturing. She was steady. She was the kind of friend everyone hopes to have.
The truth is, Grayson can’t be summed up in words. You had to experience her to truly understand her magic. She was the best of us. And she left us with the good stuff.
I love you and miss you dearly, Grayson.
My deepest condolences to Jeff, baby Eric and the Keliehor family.