Today is my brother Glenn's 46th birthday, only he is not here to celebrate it!

Glenn Alan Montenero was my "baby brother.' He was born between my sophomore and junior year in high school on the sunny afternoon of August 26, 1963. Oh my God! I couldn't believe my parents were actually still having sex. All that embarrassment changed the instant he was born and I got my first glimpse. Here was this cute little person with bright shiny brown eyes. My brother! How I loved him. My parents named him Glenn Alan, but I soon called him "Pookie." I called him that as a baby, as a child and, much to his chagrin, as an adult. He told me as an adult;" You can't call me that now, I have children, " so I gleefully changed it to Pookie Daddy and taught his three girls to call him that. I even put up a website called PookieDaddy.com

Some of my favorite memories of my brother were teaching him how to ride a bike, and how to swim. We spent a lot of time together even after I moved out and was married. I would drive to my parent's home and take him with me while we lived in California.

Our parents divorced when Glenn was a little boy and, unfortunately, he became the "political football" between them. While that hurts and is hard to understand as a child, I believe it played a major role in Glenn's life. It also drew us closer together as brother and sister. He spent summers with me in Illinois. He had a strong love of Country so when he was 18, he enlisted in the Air Force and became a K-9 bomb dog handler. He served our country for 8 years and was honorably discharged. He sought a career in law enforcement and was a corrections officer for the State of California. This job suited him well because on issues of right or wrong there was no black or white for my brother.

Anyone who knew Glenn, knew that he was very intelligent and had he chosen to, could have gone to college, and done anything he wanted to in the material world. But that was not Glenn's stated goal in life. That was not my brother.

Glenn on a number of occasions told me that what really mattered most to him was having the family life he didn't have as a child. It meant having a loving wife who shared his goals and interests and having children who could grow up in a loving home and know the values of Family, God, Country and to follow their dad and learn to become Ham Operators.

Glenn's goals in life were achieved when he found and married his wife Tammy, who shared his values and interests and when he became the proud father of three beautiful girls: Amanda, Megan and Lindsey.

We would talk on the phone weekly, sometimes more. He would always tell me stories about how proud he was of his girls and how well they were doing in school. My 2 oldest nieces, Amanda and Megan were each the youngest children in the United States to get their Ham operator licenses. My brother taught them well. He taught many others, too. He volunteered his time with eight different non-profit organizations in the Southern California area.

The measure of a person's life is not the Number of days one lives but how one lives those days. And, it is not the Quantity but the Quality of ones life that really matters. Glenn lived his life well. I tell myself that as I sit here writing this with tears in my eyes. We always thought there would be more time that we could spend together. For Christmas and Mother's Day each year my husband and I would travel to Kansas to see his 97 year old mother. We believed that each of those days might be her last, and that should be our first priority. There would be more time with Glenn later. There wasn't. Not enough. Not nearly enough. How I wish I could have had the opportunity to say goodbye. I didn't. There was only a devastating phone call from Tammy, my sister-in-law and just like that my life was forever changed.

I read somewhere that when you lose your parents, you lose your past. When you lose a spouse, you lose your present. When you lose a child you lose your future. ...and when you lose a sibling you lose your past, present and future. For the first 6 months after his death I believed that was true. I had trouble getting out of bed in the morning and sleeping at night. The relationship with my brother was the longest relationship in my life with the exception of our parents. I knew him from the day he was born until the day he died. Shortly before his death we had had a long discussion about how it felt like we were orphans because now both our parents were dead. We talked about how important the family ties were. I begged him to come visit us in Texas. I had made the last trip to California when our father was dying in 2006. He said in that last conversation; "It's not going to happen any time soon!"

It has been a hard 10 months for me and I'm afraid. I'm terrified that I will lose someone else close to me, my husband, one of my children, grandchildren or a close friend. You think about death when your parents die, but in many cases it is expected. Your parents are supposed to die before you do. My brother's death was for me the first time I faced my own mortality. I never hang up the phone with my husband or children without telling them; "I love you." One day I will be here, and one day I will be gone. I am going to live my life as best I can. My sister-in-law Tammy is doing well and the girls are blossoming. I try to call them often and we correspond via email and Facebook. When I call, on the fourth ring the answer machine picks up and there is my brother's voice. For a while I couldn't bear to hear it. It hurt too much. Now I smile through the tears because I can remember and I will never forget. He will be here with me always.

Below is a picture of my brother's legacy and future. His beautiful daughters, Lindsey, Megan and Amanda.

Happy Birthday Glenn Alan Montenero. All is well here on Earth. We miss you, bro!!!