We have lost another one of The Greats. My kind, always helpful, witty neighbor - who was way more than just a neighbor, died peacefully in his sleep. Glen was born in the midst of the Great Depression and lived through World War II as a young boy. He survived these things and whatever life threw at him with an impressive, positive, can-do attitude.
I even killed him once, myself, a few years ago but he didn't let a little thing like that stop him. And while that's another story for another time, it bears mentioning that that was the beginning of our great friendship.
That's when I began calling Betty any time I needed 'adult supervision' - and she'd always say, "Alright, I'll send him over." This was frequent. I have never been handy nor mechanically inclined; Glen could fix anything and knew how to do everything. If it was something he was showing me how to do, he always did it with patience. If it was something I was asking him to do for me, I would always add in "... if that's possible." - not wanting to ask for a task that simply couldn't be done. His reply was always the same,
"I can do it."
Confident. But never overconfident. And if things didn't go as planned, he'd improvise and always find a solution.
He became the father I never had even though I had one.
Glen was diagnosed with Alzheimer's years ago but kept his wry wit and humor most days. He complained of confusion and shortness of breath last week and I went with him to the emergency room. After spending hours there he was ready to bust loose and kept asking me if I could bring my car around to the door so we could 'make a run for it'. His young, pretty nurse said, "Don't you want to stay here and spend some time with me? I want to spend some time with you." Glen smiled and said, "I'm sorry but you're 70 plus years too late. I've got a beauty waiting on me at home and two daughters."
From a recent doctor's visit, Glen knew the end was near. And one thing he never wavered on was his directive to me in the final days. He first said it early on when he was still in relatively good shape which made it seem like it was being said all too soon. He then made it a point to say it to me every time he saw me after that day. The last day it took real effort and concentration to say it but it was important to him that I understood his message: "Take care of my girl."
Yes sir, Glen. I can do it.❤️
