Glenn Avery McMillan

I have been waiting for a quiet moment to sit down and think to write this post. I’ve finally come to the conclusion that isn’t going to happen. So here goes. . .

Ryan’s dad, Glenn, passed away a little over two weeks ago. We had just returned from a family vacation with him in Hawaii on Friday. In the early hours of Sunday morning he had a heart arrhythmia followed by a stroke. He slipped away on Wednesday night, with his wife and older sons by his side. His passing has caused a complex mix of emotions that are still buzzing around inside my head.

Glenn was an amazing man. I have known him for nearly 15 years now and I count myself as blessed to have been part of his life. I count myself even more blessed to be part of his eternal family.

When Ryan was a little guy, Glenn and Kathy realized that something was missing. Kathy had been baptized in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, but hadn’t been active for awhile. She returned to church and Glenn came with her, asking the missionaries if they could possibly find time to teach him. They did, and he embraced the restored gospel of Jesus Christ. A year later, they took their little family to the temple, where they were sealed for time and all eternity.

The last Family Home Evening Glenn taught was directed toward five of his grandsons in Maui. He taught about the reality of the temple and he testified that it is the place we need to be.

I will forever be grateful for Glenn’s choice 34 years ago to embrace the gospel. If not for that choice, my life would be so infinitely different. His baptism has rippled out to change generations.

Not only did Glenn believe in the gospel, he lived it. He was forever doing kind things for people, including all of us as his family. He moved people, fed people, and loved people his entire life. Glenn was the kind of person that made you want to be better, to do more.

As I think of Glenn, so many random memories come to mind, some significant and some just fun and sentimental.

I remember one black Friday only a few years ago Glenn woke up in the early hours of the morning and headed out shopping all by himself. He had been listening to our conversation about a rocking deal on a Lego set, so he picked up not one, but two (one for Todd and one for Todd’s cousin Kyle, of no relation to Glenn). He had a huge heart and made two boys very happy on Christmas morning.

My sister-in-law Lucy and I remember one week when Glenn had decided to “refinish” the upstairs bathroom while we were visiting. I think it must have been midnight or later when we were painstakingly finishing up the painting and laying stick-down tile. Glenn was punch-drunk and utterly hilarious, dancing and singing.

Once for my birthday, Kathy had purchased a present and ordered a cake. While we were opening presents, Glenn pulled out an extra bag for me. Glenn had seen this necklace and earrings that he thought I would like, so he bought it for me. I was touched that he had personally thought of me.

When Todd was little, Glenn bought a spiderman sleeping tent with a blow up mattress so Todd would always have a cool bed to sleep in at Grandpa’s house. While we were there for the funeral, Todd crammed himself inside that little thing to sleep even though he’s outgrown it. He sure misses his Grandpa.

Every time we went to the beach, Glenn spent hours with my boys building sand castles. His knees haven’t been up to par for the last few years, but he did it anyway. Each sandcastle was a masterpiece.

Glenn always took us on fun adventures—to Disneyland, mini-grand prix, K-12 auto racing, Hawaii.

After dinner, Glenn would always say, “Just leave those dishes, Steph. You worked hard cooking dinner. I’ll clean them up later.” If I left them, he would end up doing the dishes at 10:00 at night, after a quick nap on the couch. No night was complete without Glenn falling asleep on the couch for at least a little while.

Whenever we visited, we could always know Glenn would cook breakfast—pancakes, French toast, waffles. . .and always lots of bacon.

Last summer, Glenn came by himself for one of Todd’s swim meets and spent the weekend with us. On Sunday afternoon he said, “I’m going to lay down for 15 minutes, then I’ll help with dinner.” He stumbled out of the room over 3 hours later with bleary eyes, commenting, “Those blackout shades are brutal.”

Another visit, Glenn came out of the restroom literally choking, coughing, and gasping for breath. It finally came out that he had used a bottle labeled “Muscle Spray” as an air freshener because he couldn’t find any Lysol. I explained to him that it was actually an herbal concoction made of super hot cayenne pepper designed to relieve muscle pain, hence the label. I have yet to know what he was thinking.

Glenn was scary to drive with—he was far too interested in what was on either side of the road and he wandered aimlessly. It took years for me to feel comfortable with him in a car and appreciate his interest in his surroundings.

He was also a little painful on road trips. That man could stop more than anyone I know. Even if it had only been 45 minutes since the last stop, and even if there was a sleeping baby in the car, he’d pull right on over if he had the hankering for a drink or some candy.

Kathy got Glenn a fancy camera for his birthday last year. He loved taking pictures. Everywhere we went in Hawaii we had to wait for Glenn and his pictures. Looking at them now is a blessing as we see the world through his eyes. He loved the simple beauty of this earth.

We were blessed with the tender mercy of sharing his last week with him. One day, we took a long and windy road to the little town of Hana. On a fluke, we ended up with Glenn in our jeep for the entire two hour ride home. By the time we got back, everyone else was done, so we got him to ourselves for a quiet dinner at the best pizza place in the world. He downed an entire brownie Sunday with coconut ice cream after all that delicious pizza. What a blessing that last week was. How grateful we are that we had that time with him.

The only explanation that makes sense to Ryan and me is that Heavenly Father really needed him Home. I hope that on the other side of the veil Glenn is engaged in a great work, because on this side of the veil he is sorely missed.

I hate pork

There are a million things I should blog about, and will someday soon when my brain can think and form a coherent sentence. . .my amazing father-in-law, who I miss already; our trip to Maui; the last four months of our lives, etc.. But I'm not going to blog about any of those things tonight.

I'm simply going to say that I hate pork. Before tonight, it was only a mild revulsion. As we've changed our diet and moved away from carnivorosity (can I invent that word?--I like it) pork has been the first thing to sort of become mildly repulsive. I still like a great piece of red meat twice a year and occasionally some beautifully crafted chicken or fish. But pork has fallen from grace.

Fast forward to today. Girls camp fundraiser. Cafe Rio style. Through a series of unfortunate events, I ended up with six crock pots of pork stewing in my house all day. They were even upstairs so as not to overtax the breakers downstairs. So, by 4:00 in the afternoon, when you opened the garage door you were greeted by essence of pork. I was a bit nauseous.

That, however, is not the end of the story. 5:00. Pork transport to the church. Crock pot overturns.

In

My

Van.

I don't think it's an exaggeration to say that at least a half gallon of pork juice is now saturating my interior carpeting. My van reeks of pork. It is sticky, nasty, smelly. I'm fairly sure that I even swore (and I don't swear). But I didn't swear in front of the girls, so that's something. I don't really have any tears left to cry this week, and I really don't need to cry over a van. But I do have to say that

I HATE PORK!

It might be safe to say that I will never eat it again.