for there is no one on earth like the true shepherd and there is nothing in heaven like the suffering of real life.Patti Smith, Rockaway Beach, from Year of the Monkey.Sep. 24, 2019
Glenn Dwyer died on Saturday May 8, 2021 in ICU in a Toronto Hospital. There I said it. The finality of actually putting it down on paper while thinking of the statement’s awful reality. Glenn has left us, he has left me, it’s personal.
I am writing about a life, Glenn’s life as I saw it and felt it. Anyone’s life is like a kaleidoscope when it’s held up to one person’s eye they see something completely different than someone else sees. Let’s say we were to sit down over a couple of shots maybe a tequila or a Jack Daniels or of course a Glenntini (Glenn’s infamous shooter creation) and talked of who he was and how we remembered him. There would be the mention of kindness, big hearted, sweet, smart, an asshole, a wonderful asshole though, prideful, humble, handsome, sexy, and so forth and so forth. A good man in his early 50’s far too young to die.
I must mention a hard fact here that not everyone is born to live to 70 years old and reach old age. It just isn’t so. Oh but these individuals who break our hearts by leaving all of us so soon, burn so bright so strong that they accomplish more in their short lives than many could accomplish if they lived to 100.
The fact is Glenn was a true fun loving adventurer, a pirate, a kind open-hearted man of strong values, and a fully realized and unabashedly gay man. He loved being alive, he loved the world and all its diversities. So I’m going to end this little thing with a personal experience and one that I will always hold dear to my heart.
Once, coming in to work I was in an emotional state and obviously distressed. It doesn’t matter why but what matters is he stopped what he was doing as I came around the bar to greet him at the start of our day and looked at me deep into my eyes. He said “Patricia what’s the matter?” in two steps he was in front of me locking our eyes together and he put a hand on each shoulder and said “it’s ok, let it out, I love you and am here for you now and until you say you’re good.” That is one of my strongest memories of him and one of my biggest regrets. I never should have told him I was good. Perhaps he’d still be with us today.