Glen Thomas Johnston
September 21, 1932 – March 22, 2011
I have learned that life in the shadow of my father after his death is even more difficult than when he was living. Most people have idealized their father to the point of being an unrealistic character. In my case it was real! My Dad was a character but it the best way – everyone loved him. I have NEVER heard anyone say ANYTHING bad about my father, where as I do not have to leave the house to find people that will speak ill of me. My father was not perfect, and even people that did not agree with him still respected him. The year since his death, I have learned it will be impossible for me to have a fraction of the respect from family, friends, and community that he had – this frustrates me.
Next week I will begin therapy (AGAIN)! Even before his death I had issues. The more I am living at home and in this community, the more I see things I had felt were big accomplishments in my life have been undermined by some. I miss Dad because he was proud of me and he let me know it. Our family did not make a big deal about birthdays, they were usually a simple family meal but never a real party. Now when I graduated from Ole Miss (University of Mississippi), he and Mom threw me a party! I was the youngest child, but the first to graduate from college. When I bought my Toyota 4-Runner, he would not have been happier for me if it were a Land Rover. When I went to work for Sony, most people would, by his account, think I was hired as the President/CEO instead of lowly marketing guy. When I bought my BMW convertible while living in Las Vegas, I hoped he would be impressed. Even though he liked the car, what impressed him was the deal I got on it. His disappointment was that I had bought a BMW that was 2 years old instead of the brand new Toyota Tacoma I had originally planned to buy. When I moved to Colombia, an Ambassador’s welcome would have been too little in his eyes. I was the first in the family to have a Passport and to get a stamp in it. Now all of my family has Passports and stamps – other than Mom and I hope to change that soon.
The last few years have been very tough for me. I finally had to surrender to my Multiple Sclerosis by taking disability. This meant I had to say 
goodbye to Sony, goodbye to my BMW convertible, goodbye to my Las Vegas life and even pretty much all of my independence. He had been diagnosed with Dementia. I had just moved from Bogota to Medellin, Colombia, when I got a phone call,
“If you want to see your Dad alive again you better get home as fast as you can.” my Mom said. My sister’s were in Brazil. We all rushed home as soon as we could.
I walk in the hospital room where he was setting up, smiling as if nothing had happened and he said, “What are you doing here? I thought you were in another country.”
I replied jokingly, “I came home because I thought you were dying!”
He said with a smile, “Not today!”
What I learned later was that the night I was flying home, he walked out of the hospital and security found him in his pajamas trying to get into his car. Mom asked him where was he trying to go. He said, “To get Tommy.” (Tommy was my childhood nickname). Even supposedly dying, he was thinking he needed to come get me.
My Dad not only loved me, he respected me. He knew how much I struggled to get through college. He occasionally would help me out with some money, but he knew how I worked to support myself and pay for my education. I told him years later that I did not want him to leave me anything in his will because of all the help he gave me in college. But even what I consider to be a grand gesture has been reduced to, “Thomas don’t want anything because his Dad paid for him to party at Ole Miss all those years.” He is not here to set the record straight and stand up for me and say Thomas deserves respect because his finishing college was quite an accomplishment. Even though he would have loved for me to have lived closer, he encouraged my dreams that required I live away.
I have given up any hope that people will have the same respect for me that my father had. My own family can’t even muster simple respect for me and it hurts me, makes me angry, and helps fuel my desire to live away from here. It is easier to leave and just start somewhere fresh. People I worked with and customers at Sony had a great deal of respect for me (other that a bitch – I’ll just use her first name – Renee). Friends that are from all over the world encourage me with my writing – even though it makes me no money, it makes me happy – and my family knows little or nothing of my writing. My life of wanting and trying to have my family respect me fatigues me more than my MS. I have severed my relationship with one of my nieces because of her blatant DISrespect.
A year ago I had to say good bye to my father – and the to the respect he so easily gave me. I miss my father! He was ALWAYS in my corner. Now I just find I am fighting with myself – and I am losing! He and I did not agree on politics or religion, but he still respect me even though I aggravated him with discussion of these topics. Maybe the therapist will help me get on a more positive path even with myself. As RuPaul says, “If you don’t love yourself, how in the hell you gonna love somebody else?” Maybe I have to learn to love myself in spite of how family and friend view me. I will always be in his shadow and it disappoints me that I will never be half the man he was – even through my own eyes.
Thomas Johnston 