Beverly Glenn-Copeland is on a mission, even if his body isn't as spry as it once was. The 81-year-old musician has been diagnosed with dementia and is determined to make the most of every moment, despite the challenges that come with it.
"I know this is meant to be giving me more time," he says, "but I just feel like we're not living a life. I have places I want to see and people I want to meet before I die." His wife, Elizabeth, agrees that music has always been his escape, but now she's the one supporting him through it all.
"We've been partners for almost 20 years," she says, her voice filled with emotion. "We're in this together, always leaning on each other's shoulders and tag-teaming anecdotes." It's clear that their love and partnership are still going strong, despite the obstacles they face.
Glenn's music has always been a way for him to express himself, but now it's become a lifeline. He's been forced out of retirement for his 2020 tour, which was cancelled due to the pandemic, but he refused to let that stop him. "It's not the I'm-so-fabulous show," Elizabeth says with a laugh. "It's: how can what we do in this room with these humans be of service?"
Glenn's music is more than just a performance; it's an experience. His bandmates are also caregivers, taking on roles that help him navigate the complexities of life with dementia.
"We don't want to be old people in that way that our culture tells us old people should be," Elizabeth says, gazing around their autumnal garden. "Yes, we're coming into the decay phase of life but when you watch the leaves turn from green to orange, often the decay phase can be the most beautiful."
As for Glenn, he's still determined to make a difference. He's an advocate for trans rights and continues to offer advice to young people who are struggling with their identities.
"Mostly what I say is if you feel you can be who you really are, be who you really are," he says, his eyes twinkling with wisdom. "That's the point, right?"
For now, Glenn is living in the moment, savoring every second of life despite the challenges that come with it. He may not be able to drive a car or fill out paperwork like he used to, but his spirit remains unbroken.
"I'm 81 years old," he says with a grin, "but this ain't it."
"I know this is meant to be giving me more time," he says, "but I just feel like we're not living a life. I have places I want to see and people I want to meet before I die." His wife, Elizabeth, agrees that music has always been his escape, but now she's the one supporting him through it all.
"We've been partners for almost 20 years," she says, her voice filled with emotion. "We're in this together, always leaning on each other's shoulders and tag-teaming anecdotes." It's clear that their love and partnership are still going strong, despite the obstacles they face.
Glenn's music has always been a way for him to express himself, but now it's become a lifeline. He's been forced out of retirement for his 2020 tour, which was cancelled due to the pandemic, but he refused to let that stop him. "It's not the I'm-so-fabulous show," Elizabeth says with a laugh. "It's: how can what we do in this room with these humans be of service?"
Glenn's music is more than just a performance; it's an experience. His bandmates are also caregivers, taking on roles that help him navigate the complexities of life with dementia.
"We don't want to be old people in that way that our culture tells us old people should be," Elizabeth says, gazing around their autumnal garden. "Yes, we're coming into the decay phase of life but when you watch the leaves turn from green to orange, often the decay phase can be the most beautiful."
As for Glenn, he's still determined to make a difference. He's an advocate for trans rights and continues to offer advice to young people who are struggling with their identities.
"Mostly what I say is if you feel you can be who you really are, be who you really are," he says, his eyes twinkling with wisdom. "That's the point, right?"
For now, Glenn is living in the moment, savoring every second of life despite the challenges that come with it. He may not be able to drive a car or fill out paperwork like he used to, but his spirit remains unbroken.
"I'm 81 years old," he says with a grin, "but this ain't it."