August 10, 2011
I received a call from Vicky last night and most of what she said was received in a haze. I didn’t hear it. The reality of some of the facts didn’t sink in until 3 beers later.
She began the conversation with, “when it rains, it pours, at least in my life lately.” Then she asked if I had heard about the accident on Henry Rd. yesterday afternoon, you know, the one where someone died and another person was life-flighted out. I said I’d seen a little about it.
And I just knew at that point, she knew the person who had died. With everything that has been going on lately with Jen being in the hospital, I figured this was a moment where she was going to need some comfort and support from me. I didn't know that we were both going to be in need of some comfort and support.
Her voice started to break up a little and there were a few hitches in her breathing as she blurted out, “Glenn Miller was the one who died.” She said it so fast it sounded like she was trying to prevent the words from burning her. I jolted out of my chair and yelled, “no way! Oh my God!” and Steve and Megan looked at me with concern, and I gathered myself long enough to tell them it wasn’t about Jen. Because you know (now) how much we’ve been dealing with lately.
Everything else she said got stuck somewhere in my brain. Some of it sunk in 3 beers later, after my youngest daughter got home from the fair. I remembered Vicky saying that you almost had your sons with you. You were going to run some errands and take them with you, then come back to pick up Angel and go to a game. But Angel suggested that you run your errands and then stop back to get them. She was the Angel who saved their lives yesterday. I hugged my daughter so tight when she got home.
This morning I remembered Vicky saying that one of your friends was one of the first on scene and he didn’t even realize it was you until they ran your plates.
I later remembered her saying there might be something to the concept that your time here on earth is set from the beginning. It certainly explains why you didn’t have your sons with you.
You, my dear Glenn, will always maintain a special place in my heart. A part of me will always love you. The adult in me sees our relationship so differently than the teenager did. I recall our last conversation and meeting with a smile. I remember you cared. And I remember you respected. And I’ll never forget your beautiful smile or the butterflies you gave me in high school. I still remember your middle name. And your birth date. And even though you may not have heard, I always wished you a Happy Birthday on your day…a whisper into the air. I'm certain I'll continue that tradition.
And I hope and pray that Angel, Glennie and Noah will be able to move forward on love's wings, knowing that you'll still be there with them, even if they can't see you.
Thank you, Glenn, for being you. Rest In Peace, my friend.