Obituary of Sarah Ann Grieco

Sarah Ann Grieco, 67, of Morris Plains passed away on February 18, 2022 at home with her loving husband and sister by her side. Born in Ocala, Florida, Sarah resided in New Orleans, LA before moving to Morris Plains 28 years ago. Sarah graduated from Lake Weir High School in 1972. She worked as an Executive Assistant for Deloitte in Parsippany for 18 years, until she retired in September 2018. In her spare time, she enjoyed attending and motivating class members in various Zumba classes in the area. Sarah is survived by her husband, Gary J. Grieco; and her step-children, Brian and Lisa Grieco, and Matthew and Fayga Grieco. She is also survived by her siblings, Lenny and Sandi Hart, Lou Hart, Boo and Wayne Cook, and Larry and Rita Hart; as well as her grandchildren, Michael Grieco, Chaim Grieco, Dovid Grieco, and Meir Grieco; and her nieces and nephews, Bryon Hart, Tammy Haslam, Josh Van Epps, Melinda Hart, Evan Hart, Neale Hart, Andy Cook, Adam Cook, and John Cook. Visitation will be on Thursday, February 24, 2022 from 4-6pm, with a Celebration of Life at 6pm, at Dangler Funeral Home, 600 Speedwell Avenue, Morris Plains. (*Guests are respectfully requested to wear masks while indoors.) In lieu of flowers, donations in memory of Sarah may be made to: St. Jude Children's Research Hospital (www.stjude.org). _____________________________________ Written by Sarah's husband Gary..... No, I should not be writing my wife’s obituary. I should be telling her “I love you” to which Sarah always responded “Love you more.” We should be playing with our grandchildren, her teaching our teenager to dance while I tell corny jokes to the little ones. I should be working in our backyard garden as Sarah stares out from the kitchen window and smiles when I finally notice her. I should be watching, and smiling, as Sarah dances in front of her laptop, sweating and enjoying every minute of a virtual Zumba class. We should be enjoying the view from the aft deck as a cruise ship departs a port of call and sails off to another world we’ve always wanted to see. I should be tossing and turning at night until her open hand lands softly on my back, at which point the day’s worries fade and I drift off to sleep. No, I should not be writing my sweet Sarah’s obituary. But I must, and I must say goodbye, until we meet again.