Terence Alan Glatt

Terence (Terry) Alan Glatt, 83, born 20 June 1942 in Greenville, ME, to Oscar Bernard Glatt and Vera Irene (Patterson) Glatt, passed away peacefully in his home on 13 May 2026 in Levant, ME, surrounded by his family.

Terry is survived by his loving wife of 64 years, Marcia Elaine (Fogg) Glatt; his children, Garret Lee Glatt and wife Crystal, and their children Brian Glatt and Shauna (Glatt) Bishop; Tracy Alan Glatt and his daughter Amber (Glatt) Woolsey; and Cheryl Lynn Glatt and her daughter Michalie Marie Larabee. He also leaves three great-grandchildren: Conrad and Audrey Bishop, and Chloe Mushet. He was predeceased by his sister, Nina Blanch (Glatt) Whittaker, and brothers‑in‑law, Lewis Earl Whittaker and Raymond A. Fogg (Sanborn).

Terry served eight years in the Maine Air National Guard and Air Force Reserve, receiving an honorable discharge in 1966. He later retired from the Maine Warden Service after 20 years as a Game Warden. He went on to work as a carpenter and as both an over‑the‑road (OTR) long‑haul and local driver for Hart Transportation. He later contracted under Gaftek before retiring.

He was a lifelong lover of pets and Maine wildlife, gardening, reading, sarcasm, TV dramas (recently K‑dramas), and building just about anything. Terry also delighted in recounting terrifying stories from his time as a Game Warden while casually smoking a cigarette with a smirk. He will be deeply missed, especially by his kitties, Whiskers and Luney.

The family extends a truly heartfelt thanks to the hospice team at St. Joseph Healthcare, especially Brenda ("Birdie") and Judy ("Judge Judy"), for their year of devoted care. You are angels even he could believe in, and that's a high compliment. We love you.

Per his wishes, services will be private.

As his "mumma" sang to him as a child when his "papa" was across the ocean at war:

"My Bonnie lies over the ocean.

My Bonnie lies over the sea.

My Bonnie lies over the ocean.

Oh, bring back my Bonnie to me."

Their boy is back with them indeed.

We love you, Terry. We love you, Dad. We love you, Grampy, forever. We will see you again, but until then, we will feel your echoes in moments hidden in the ordinary. When we see an especially entitled squirrel scattering seeds in a bird feeder, admire a lush garden, choke on a whiff of cigarette smoke, struggle with a crossword you would've deftly completed in pen yourself, think of a surprisingly witty comeback, or hear an especially creative swear, we will feel you. You are missed, you are loved, you are known, and you are remembered.

A short farewell from his wife:

I have loved you, Terry, with all of my heart since I met you. You have added joy and much love to my life and to our family we created together. You have been the love of my life, and you always will be.

Yours forever,

Marcia