It's Written In Stone

It's been eight months since we lost Glenn.  He has been gone longer than he was sick. Both seemed like an eternity and a blink of an eye all at once. While we are all trying to adjust to a new life, a life without Glenn, we have discovered one thing: life does go on.

This doesn't mean that Glenn has been forgotten--in fact, it's just the opposite. We are constantly surrounded by memories--things that will always remind us of Glenn and what an important and special part of our lives he is.  Sometimes those memories sneak up on us and are so overwhelming that it feels like our hearts are breaking all over again. We are still grateful for them, as painful as they are, because we never want to forget him.  We talk about Glenn often and we can feel him near us, especially when we are all together.  He continues to look out for us in so many ways.  I am so grateful for the special man that he is and for the love and joy that he still brings to our family. I don't think we will ever stop missing him, or that the hole he left in our hearts will ever be healed.  The pain has become more bearable and we are each learning how to move forward as best as we can. That's what Glenn wanted. He didn't want us to stop living, and he encouraged us to live a full life. He was a wonderful man that always wanted those around him to be happy.  And so, sometimes with heavy hearts, our lives go on.

This blog was started when Glenn was diagnosed as a way to keep everyone updated and informed. We wanted it to be about Glenn and, ultimately, the progress he was making. It was difficult to know what to do when things didn't end up the way we had hoped. The day the headstone was delivered was one of the toughest days yet. As I arrived at the cemetery and came around the curve in the road, I could see the gap had been filled in. After months and months of waiting, it was finally in place. It was a gut-wrenching, and yet at the same time, a comforting feeling to see the stone there.  I was overcome again by the finality. Somehow a big rock with an end date on it brings you to that reality. The reality of the finality. The reality is Glenn is gone. He will never be forgotten. He lived his life with compassion and tolerance. It's a legacy he has passed on to each of us and we will continue to strive for as we keep him in our hearts and live lives he would be proud of. He has blessed us for generations and we will always be so grateful to have had him in our lives. We love you Glenn!


"There is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness, but of power. They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues.  They are messengers of overwhelming grief...and unspeakable love."  --Washington Irving

They are much too young. All five of them are too young to have to go through this.
Saying goodbye is so hard. Having each other to lean on means everything.
As Glenn always said, "Family isn't about blood."
We are family.

JJ kisses Grampa goodbye while Addison cries on Uncle Brennan's shoulder.
We miss you so much Grampa Glenn.
You are our sunshine.

Glenn hand-picked the men that would stand by him at the end. Thank you to his sons, Jared and Brennan, his nephews Ty, Chad, and Cody, and his friend, Dave. He also loved the BMW casket.

Glenn's wedding ring had the Hebrew inscription of:
"I am my Beloved's, and my Beloved is mine."

When our new house was built, Glenn took the day off to be home when the concrete patio was poured.
I came home to the heart with our initials carved in the patio. The monument company was able to do a duplicate of the
actual heart in his handwriting. Seeing it both times made me cry.

The reality of the finality is written in stone.
We love you Glenn!