I’m sitting with my family as I write this note, heading across the country in a glistening white tour bus, traveling from Nashville to Arkansas, the place where Glen was born. We’ve done this drive countless times before, but today is different. Our destination isn’t a concert hall and there won’t be any fans lined up to greet us when we arrive.
As we pass from state to state in the early morning darkness, it all feels strangely familiar, yet very different. The bus is quiet today. There is no singing, no laughter, no Glen. There will be no joy or excitement as we approach the Campbell family cemetery, where we will lay my husband of 34 years, the father of my three children, and my very best friend, to rest.
I have been grieving and saying goodbye to Glen every day for the last six years, ever since his diagnosis of Alzheimer’s, not knowing which day he might forget me or which day might be his last. Although I knew it was inescapable and certain, nothing could have prepared me for the profound loss I felt as I said goodbye for the final time yesterday. I had been praying that I would be able to hold his hand when he entered eternity, and my request was granted. While surrounded by family, I watched him take his last breath.
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In 1981, Glen and I identified ourselves with the death, burial and resurrection of the Messiah by being immersed in a creek near the cemetery where Glen’s body will rest. Glen publicly professed his faith, publicly shared his struggles and triumphs over alcoholism, and publicly shared his journey with Alzheimer’s, all to the glory of God. I find immense comfort knowing that Glen’s spirit is now free and present with the Lord. I have no doubt that when he met his maker yesterday at 10am, he was greeted with, “Well done, good and faithful servant.”
– Kim Campbell
August 9th, 2017