1977. I don’t think we’ve crossed paths since then.
He did not recognize me.
Twice a year we in the Mormon Church have a local conference meeting on a Saturday evening and tonight was it.
One of the speakers was new to the area and when I saw the program as we came in I knew exactly who that was before I even laid eyes on him.
He gave a wonderful talk of love and faith and inclusiveness and how life had shown him how small acts of loving God right now by serving others in His name, those small moments had multiplied on themselves across his lifetime to bless others in ways and to three generations now that he could never really have understood when he was younger. Listening to him, one could only go wow, this is a good man.
Just like his dad.
I went up afterwards to reintroduce myself to him, and while someone else was talking to him told his wife that Glen and my brother had waited for their mission calls together back in the day.
And then I was next. I said to him, “You were on your mission and I was at BYU when the call went out that all of Potomac Ward was asked to fast and pray for your dad. We did–and then the doctors could no longer find the liver cancer they thought he had.”
“Kidney cancer,” he corrected for me–I’d had it wrong all these years, but the wonderment in his face as he shook my hand, silently pleading a help me out here, then, “What is your name?”
“I’m Morgan’s little sister. I’m Alison.”
And with that Glen knew at last who I was and we rejoiced in each other’s long-lost presence as his wife thoroughly enjoyed the whole thing. Here, already in this new place, was someone from home. Or rather, his, anyway.
He asked after my parents, since he and they had both moved away; “Are they still alive?”
“Yes, they’re doing great! And your dad? Is he still with us?”
“Yes!” And not only here, but doing well, he added.
The flash of understanding between us in that moment…
And then someone else in the crowd needed his attention and with regret he turned to answer them and I took my leave. We’ll have more chances to catch up.