I smile a little
imagining the laughter
we shared long ago
Today marks what would have been Glen’s 36th birthday. It’s still sad to think that he’s no longer part of this world, living only in memories and our visions of heaven. I try not to have such a heavy heart when thinking of him but there’s that moment of sorrow that I cannot deny. And I ponder that age old question– Why?
Why was it his time to die? Why isn’t he here to watch his children grow? Why isn’t he here to share his life with his wife? Why isn’t he here to watch his Georgia Bulldogs or Arsenal? Why won’t I ever see a message from him callin me “sis”? Why did a man with such a good heart meet his end when he still had so much more to give this world?
I read his wife’s blog and her journey through widowhood and I admire her willingness to share this time of her life with us– family, friends, and strangers alike. Even though I don’t comment (I don’t want any awkwardness), I do read all her posts. She offers balance between grief and life and I appreciate the glimpse into her heart and mind. Sometimes I do want to comment but I think it might be an intrusion. After all, I’m part of Glen’s life before her and perhaps she would not like to be reminded of that time of his life.
Glen had a such a good heart and a great spirit of love. I was not privy to his imperfections but I’m sure he was hardly perfect. But to me, he was a loving brother-in-law and a good friend. Even when he was no longer technically my brother-in-law, he still called me “sis” and it always made me smile and feel special. Glen’s gift was making you feel special because to him, you were special. I feel very lucky to have known him, to have called him family.
So even through these unfallen tears, I smile a little and imagine him with that infectious smile of his. I imagine him bringing comfort to his loved ones without them realizing it. I imagine him gracing the heavens, ready to greet us when it’s time. And I imagine that a bit of his spirit of love lives in all of us who knew him…