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It’s a Tough, Tough Journey

The first day of May is coming very quickly. For the last 8 years, this has been a long, difficult month for me. I already feel the cloud of grief gathering over my head. My son, David Glasser, was a Phoenix Police Officer who was killed in the line of duty in May 2016. His official End of Watch is May 19 but, if you’ve read my blogs you know I often use May 18th as the day he was killed because he was gone by the time I saw him in the hospital. Machines kept his body functioning until the next day so we could say goodbye and he could fulfill his wish of being an organ donor. But the awesome son, husband, father, brother and friend that we all knew was not in that hospital bed.

May starts out with Mother’s Day. It’s bitter sweet. I am so grateful for having 34 years with Davey, I am so thankful for our daughter and her family here in Denver and I am hugely blessed to have 4 adorable grand darlings. But Mother’s Day is not all flowers and smiles for those of us who have lost a child. The hole in our lives is bigger on Mother’s Day.

And then May 15th is National Peace Officers Memorial Day. So 4 days before Davey’s official E.O.W (End of Watch) our whole Blue Family is remembering and honoring all of our fallen heroes. Too many men and women have died serving their communities. Too many families are going through the nightmare we are going through. Too many lives blown apart.

May 15th is part of Police Week in Washington, DC. The main events of Police Week are the Candlelight Vigil and the Memorial Service. I have good, but bittersweet memories from 2017 when my family attended the entire week’s conference. Davey’s name is engraved on the Law Enforcement Memorial in Washington, DC. at 38 – W:30. If you haven’t been there, you’ll need to go the next time you are in town. It will help you remember that there are still a lot of people in this country who stand for honor, courage and sacrifice. There are thousands of people who have died serving their communities and cities.

We are hosting a Neighborhood Driveway Happy Hour on May 15th in our community in order to commemorate National Peace Officers Memorial Day. I think its important to raise awareness for all the sacrifices police officers make in order to serve and protect. The average person may not be aware this day exists but our goal is to make sure people who live around us know about it.

May 18th will forever be the worst day of my life. We always get together with family on either the 18th or 19th to remember Davey together. There is usually some cornhole involved since Davey loved to play games and have fun.

I’m sure you can start to understand why May is an especially hard month for me.

My long, difficult month of May always ends on a high note with my wedding anniversary with Dave, my husband. Forty-three years this year. It is a light at the end of a dark tunnel of remembering and it gives us something positive to celebrate. It is an accomplishment to be proud of, especially because together we have survived the worst thing that can happen to a parent. Our anniversary reminds us that our marriage has been one of our anchors in the continuing storm of missing Davey.

This year, May will end for me with a big Broadway Review all done by members of my 55+ community. Lights, costumes, and dancing – it’s all happening for 3 shows. I’m a singer so I’m in a couple of small group numbers and all of the big chorus numbers. That makes my participation low on stress and high on music and fun. I’m hoping this will help May speed by for me in a flurry of practices and rehearsals.

The main thing that has helped me keep moving forward through the roller coaster of pain and grief that has defined my life these last almost 8 years is getting as close to God as I possibly can. God remains my Rock as he shows me how to survive with a heart that was smashed on May 18, 2016. I spend many hours each week with my Bible open on my lap, listening and talking to God.

The amount of hours I spend with my Father will be going way up in May.

Miss you, Davey.

Love you.

Everything Shook

May 18, 2016.

David Glasser, my son, a Phoenix Police Officer, was killed in the line of duty on that day.

And everything in my world shook.

You cannot imagine what that feels like until it happens to you.  Because it wasn’t just my life – the tsunami of his death hit everyone who was close to Davey.

His children, my two little grandchildren’s world exploded.  My daughter-in-law’s world crashed.

My husband’s world shattered into tiny pieces.  Davey was his best friend and my husband’s father had just passed away 2 weeks before Davey was killed.  Too much.

My daughter’s world tilted sideways as all of her dreams and plans with her big brother crumbled.

Davey’s close friend’s and squad member’s worlds spiraled in various directions as each person felt the blow of Davey’s death.

The world shook.  It twisted.  It filled with unimaginable grief.  It emptied of joy and light.

I needed something solid to hold onto while everything around me smashed and rocked.  And I found the one thing that didn’t shatter, didn’t tilt, didn’t explode.  He was right beside me and he was Rock Solid – my Father God.  Always there, always loving us, always caring for us.

God has been with us every step of the way as we have each had to pick our way through the devastation Davey’s death had on our lives.  I am completely convinced that God is good and nothing that has happened to me changes that.

When my world stopped shaking, I realized it was in this new place, a new reality.  My head recognizes this place and knows I have to keep moving forward.  My heart is still regularly tugged back to a time when Davey was here, making me laugh and filling my life with his special kind of love…

before my whole world shook.

Miss you, Davey.

Love you.

Don’t Say It

Death.  Loss.  Serious illness.  Tragedy.

When it happens to someone we know, we often don’t know what to say.   We need to say something – it has to be acknowledged or it feels really wrong – the elephant in the room.

We should think about what we’re going to say ahead of time.

I know.  Many people have said weird or not-helpful things while trying to be nice to me since my son, David Glasser, who was a Phoenix Police Officer, was killed in the line of duty on May 18, 2016.

When tragedy blew my life apart, many of the people I spoke to afterwards would say ‘So sorry for your loss.”  I used to think that this sounded unoriginal and trite but, after experiencing some of the other things people say, I realize it’s a good option.  When you say this, you are recognizing my loss and sharing an emotion.   I say it myself now.   Actually, I often just say “I’m so sorry” to someone who has just had a loss or tragedy.  They know what I’m referring to – it’s all they can think about.

It’s been over 9 years since Davey was killed and the things people say don’t hurt anymore. I just shake my head at the craziness. Recently, I was talking to a woman about Davey’s death and she said she understood. Her dog just died and it was horrible. Can you imagine my feeling of unbelief that she would compare my son’s death to her dog’s? I didn’t say anything. She just wouldn’t understand.

In the first year after Davey was killed people said some things that hurt. It felt like they were poking at my bruises. Saying these things to someone who recently experienced a tragic death can make a dark day worse:

“There’s always a reason.”  Really?   Am I supposed to be glad he’s gone because there’s a reason?  I should stop crying because it’s all working out great now?

“Time heals all wounds.” Really?  All of this pain and grief is going to go away?   It’s going to turn into a scar that doesn’t hurt anymore?  I  personally think ‘heal’ is the wrong word to use with loss and grief. It’s 9 years later and time has not healed all of my wounds. My heart is broken and I know it’s going to stay broken this side of heaven.

“He’s in a better place.”  My head knows that.  My heart has been shattered into a million pieces and it aches a little bit more when you remind me that he’s not here with us, with me.

What should we say?

“I’m sorry” works. And sharing a good memory of the person that passed or saying something positive about them can add a little ray of light to a dark day for the person you are talking to.

Here’s a great tip- those of us that are left behind love to hear the name of the one we lost. So say their name as often as you can.

Overall, the best advice I have read is in the Bible – Romans 12:15b –

“Weep with those who weep”.

Weep with us.

Weep with me.

Let your heart break for those who are heart-broken.

Hold tightly onto anyone is who is lost in pain and grief.

Give us grace when we are not gracious.

Forgive us when the anger boils over.

Be patient with us when our frustration shows.

Understand that it’s hard to focus sometimes when the emptiness is overwhelming.

Don’t ask us to let you know if there’s anything you can do – if there’s something you want to do, just do it.

Don’t tell us about a different tragedy – your’s or someone else’s.  We are struggling to deal with our own.

Don’t give us advice unless we ask for it.

You really don’t have to say much. Just love us unconditionally, no matter how we respond.

And weep with us.

Miss you, Davey.

Love you💙💙

 

 

 

Finishing What He Started

Davey cared.  He didn’t just say ‘Love you’, he showed it and lived it.

He wanted our community to be a safe place for families to live and kids to play.

When he was 12 years-old he took a summer job as a junior counselor at a Boys and Girls Club in a high-risk area of Phoenix.  He wanted those kids to have a safe summer playing games and having lots of fun.

I will never forget – on his first day of being a counselor, one of the little kids vomited and Davey had to clean it up. Yuck!  But it was an early lesson about how – when you care – you often find yourself in the middle of the yuck and mess of other’s lives and choices.

What a great lesson for a young man who would later choose to become part of the Thin Blue Line between the innocent and the evil.  He cared and he did something about it.  Everyday as a Police Officer, he stood for what is good and right in our world – pushing back the evil and often ending up in other people’s yuck.  He knew Police Officers weren’t perfect – he wasn’t perfect.  But they are willing to stand for what is safe and right.   They don’t just talk about it or throw some money at it – they are willing to put their lives on the line….because they care about making our communities safe.

Davey requested to work in high-risk areas of the city because the need for people who care is greater there.  The Thin Blue Line has to be stronger there.  He often told me that his goal was to put the people in our city who chose to put other lives in danger behind bars so they couldn’t hurt people anymore. He received several commendations for his extra efforts against the monsters who beat up babies and small children.

And he paid the highest price possible for his dedication to caring for our city when he was killed in the line of duty in 2016.

Davey made a significant contribution to our city when he was alive and he has inspired those of us who are left behind to make a difference through the David Glasser Foundation.  We are continuing the work that Davey started. 

You have probably heard that Davey loved sports – all sports.  The disciplined activity of sports helped him grow into a strong and confident and capable adult.  So the David Glasser Foundation has been sponsoring youth teams across the valley which have police officer volunteers involved with them. This honors Davey’s love of sports and gives kids the chance to learn the life skills Davey learned being active in sports.  This also gives the people in the community a chance to interact with Police Officers in a positive environment .

Davey’s life on earth has ended but we have watched as his legacy of love continues.

Thank you for all of the support and love so many of you have shown us.  Together, we are honoring Davey’s sacrifice and continuing the battle.

Miss you, Davey.

Love you💙💙

The Hole is Getting Bigger

The hole that my son, David Glasser, left is getting bigger.

David was a Phoenix Police Officer who was killed in the line of duty on May 18th, 2016.

It was almost 10 years ago……and the hole seemed big then.  It’s only gotten bigger.

He has missed so much.  He wasn’t there for so many things he should have been.  The list of missed birthdays, the missed Christmas’, the missed Father’s days – and Mother’s Days –  is growing. 

One of the ironic feelings I have when talking about and organizing David Glasser Foundation events is  ‘Davey would love this – he should be here’.  And I don’t mean his ‘spirit’ – I mean the super-tall guy with the big grin on his face making everybody laugh.

So many people say the first year after someone dies is the hardest.  I would agree that it is very hard.  We have to figure out all the ‘firsts’.  Our hearts are pierced and bleeding so it’s an overwhelming struggle to do anything for the first time without the one we lost.

But the permanence of the situation becomes much more real each year…another birthday….another Christmas. It just can’t be true that the rest of our lives are going to be like this – without Davey.  I don’t want it to be true.

For me, this is the part that is so different from when my father, mother and older brothers died.  They were all older than me, so I expected there would be a time when I would be here on earth without them.

That isn’t true about Davey.  He was supposed to be here while his dad and I grew old, making jokes about our move into a 55+ community.  He was supposed to retire from being a cop and become a high school teacher and basketball coach.  He was supposed to coach his children’s baseball, softball, flag football and basketball teams.  He was supposed to keep tailgating and being the life of the party.  He was supposed to be here to celebrate his children’s graduations and weddings….and his grandchildren.

It still doesn’t seem possible that he won’t be doing any of that.

It still doesn’t seem possible that we will have to do all of that without him.

Thank you, God, for giving us the strength and the comfort and the hope we need to move forward while bringing Davey with us.

But our daily reality remains- the hole where Davey should be in our lives is very big ….. and it’s getting bigger.

Miss you, Davey.

Love you💙💙

Can You Feel It?

It’s growing……

Your heart.

My heart.

When we take this ‘love you’ idea seriously – remembering to say ‘Love you’ and remembering to show love to other people- it makes our hearts grow bigger.

It opens up our hearts in new ways to new people.

New understandings.  New opportunities to love.

Can you feel it?

I feel it. I know my heart has a lot more blue in it now.  My Blue Family has helped my heart grow as they have shown so much love and care for my family and I these last 9 1/2 years. So many people, so many tears, so many hugs.  So many new Blue Family members who will never leave my heart.daves-squad

As my heart grows, I also feel more compassion for people – especially people who have gone through a tragedy like our’s.  Every report of a fallen officer tugs at my heart as I think about their family and friends struggling through the dark days, roller coaster months, and painful years that we’ve gone through.  The grief that we still deal with.

Add our blue tragedies to all of the bad things happening to other people right around us and the pain piles very high and very deep.  Our love needs to pile on even higher and deeper.

There are so many different ways of showing love.

It’s very obvious that many people in our culture today don’t realize how much love and care Police Officers show them everyday.  Davey told me several times that he didn’t want to spend his time catching regular citizens who made a simple mistake.  He wanted to get the mean and evil people off of the streets and into jail.  The monsters who murder the innocent.  The losers who sell drugs to make themselves a lot of money while creating mayhem in our neighborhoods.  The evil ones whose only thoughts are for themselves and how to take from others.img_2410

My brothers and sisters who wear the blue uniform – you show your love every minute of every shift as you clean up the filth on our streets, helping to make our communities safer for the rest of us.  And you continue to show your love off duty with helping others and always being part of the solution.  That’s just how you are.

The Thin Blue Line has a very special love for others defined by service and honor.

We need more of that in our world.

Miss you, Davey.

Love you!

 

 

 

It’s A Struggle

Each day, as we get closer to Christmas, the hole in my heart grows a little bigger,

and a little darker.  The pain becomes a little stronger.

It becomes increasingly harder not to focus on what I have lost.

What my family has lost.

David Glasser, my son, was a Phoenix Police Officer who was killed in the line of duty in 2016.  The journey from May 18, 2016 to now has been a constant struggle.  And this struggle intensifies during the holidays – he loved everything about Christmas.

Sometimes I just wish the holidays were over.

I know many of you share my feelings.  Since I’ve had this very public and tragic loss in my life, more people have been sharing their own heartbreaks and the losses they have experienced with me.  And others haven’t talked about it but I can see the private pain in their eyes when we talk about my heartbreak.

 We struggle together – especially at Christmas.

So I force my attention away from who I don’t have in my life any longer.  And I focus on all the blessings God is giving me right now. My 4 grandchildren light up my life and we are blessed to live close to the two littlest ones with our daughter and her husband. We get to see their excitement and their joy today as we go visit Santa Claus. Nothing lights up my world like the smiles of my grandchildren.

We are also planning several special times with family and friends during the holidays.  We have learned a life-changing lesson in just how short our lives can be and how quickly someone can be gone.  So, because of the hole, we know we need to make the most of the time we have together.   This is not the time to get stuck in yesterday.  We have new memories to make because there is no guarantee that we’ll have tomorrow together here on earth.

And we can’t ignore the struggle that is happening in so many people’s lives at this time of year.  I read that this week of Christmas has the highest rate of suicide across our nation.

That is so wrong.

So I pray for those of us who are experiencing additional pain and loss during this difficult season.  And I am trying to be extra patient and kind to people in my world this week – on the freeway, at the store, in the parking lots.  Many of them are struggling and I don’t want to add to the difficulties they are experiencing.

You know what feels really good? The David Glasser Foundation held our annual Shop with a Cop event yesterday in Phoenix, helping 30 kids and their families who would not have had any presents this Christmas without our support. It was a great morning of police officer volunteers helping these children buy gifts for their whole family and wrap them up so everyone is surprised Christmas morning. The kids also got to talk to Santa, eat snacks and do some crafts and games. The Phoenix Police Department was there with their super-interesting helicopters, K9 units and SWAT teams. What a morning! What a way to kick off the Christmas season!

What a great way to give joy to 30 families from Laveen, AZ., where Davey was killed.

Can each of us think of a way we can reach out helping hands to those who are struggling and need help this Christmas?

And please join me in praying for a little more peace on earth during this holiday season.

Miss you, Davey.

Love you!

 

I Was Surprised

My son, David Glasser, was a Phoenix Police Officer who was killed in the line of duty on May 19, 2016.

Parts of his funeral are foggy to me and other parts are crystal clear.  I will never forget sitting in the front row of the huge church auditorium packed to the rafters with family, friends and police officers and their wives.  As I sat there with thousands of people sitting behind me, I felt huge waves of grief rolling over the crowd.  That was one of the experiences that helped me understand how many people were affected by Davey’s death.

This was much bigger than family and friends and people who knew him.  This was my whole big blue family grieving.  I had never experienced that amount of serious grief and pain in one room.

Unbelievable.

The speakers at his funeral were awesome and I appreciated everything people shared.

I did not expect to be surprised by a few things that people talked about.  I knew Davey well and spent a ton of time with him.  As his mother, I thought I knew all about him.  But two things that were shared were not things I expected.

One of them is Davey’s Legacy of Love – he made a big deal out of saying ‘love you’ to his squad members before he left on a call and he would stand there, waiting for them to say it back to them.  I knew Davey always said it to me, I just didn’t know that it was the last thing that he said to everyone that he cared about in his life.  I didn’t know that he had his whole squad of tough police officers saying it to each other before they left on a call.  I also didn’t know at the time of his funeral how Davey’s legacy of love was going to totally change the journey we have been on since that day.  Love is the answer.  I’ve shared that many times with you and I’ll probably keep saying it until the day I leave this earth for home.

The other thing that surprised me was how many of the speakers talked about Davey sharing his faith.  I shouldn’t be surprised because he had a very strong faith.   I just never heard him sharing his faith with other people so I didn’t realize he talked about God as much as he did.  Now I realize that, if he cared about you and he wasn’t sure you believed in Jesus, he would bring it up….often.  In fact, he didn’t let the subject die, he kept talking about it.  He would challenge his friend’s beliefs and unbelief.

How awesome!  It’s just another reason why I’m proud of the man Davey was.  Davey accepted Jesus as his Savior as a child and continued to grow in his faith through the rest of his life.  In this picture, Davey and my husband, Dave, are at a Promise Keeper’s Christian Men’s Rally.  Promise Keepers taught men all about living a life of integrity and keeping their promises.  Davey learned that lesson very well – those of you who knew him already were aware of that.

God provided a great church family for us which was the village that helped grow Davey’s faith.  Davey went to church camp and mission trips every year – living out his faith and having a great time doing it.  This picture is of one of the groups of kids that went on a church mission trip when Davey was in high school.  He is in the back row next to Jay Van Gelder who spoke at his funeral.  And Kristen is in the front row.  We had no idea that they would marry not too many years after this picture was taken.

Davey sets a good role model for those of us who believe.  We need to share our faith and what we know to be true – and we need to keep sharing it.

And do it all while we love people.

Miss you, Davey.

Love you!

No Word

There is no word for losing a child. A child who loses their parents is an orphan. A husband who loses his wife is a widower.

But there is no word for a parent who loses a child. Maybe that’s because the pain is indescribable. It’s so wrong. It’s not supposed to happen.

My son, David Glasser, was a Phoenix Police officer who was killed in the line of duty on May 18, 2016 and my life blew up. All of my hopes and dreams were ripped away because Davey played a part in all of them.

Parents like me have to piece our lives back together around a big hole after losing a child. It’s very hard to do. It’s a daily struggle for a long time – years – to develop new habits. It doesn’t feel right because rebuilding a life without our child feels like we are leaving a very important part of us behind.

God is the one who helped me figure out how to move forward, bringing Davey with me. Davey still has a significantly positive role in the life I have built these last 9 1/2 years since his death.

The David Glasser Foundation has played a big part in helping all of us take Davey with us as we move forward. Through the foundation, we get to complete some of the work that Davey would have done if he was still here and that feels very good.

Hosting a Law Enforcement Memorial Day community gathering at our house every year helps my husband and I take Davey with us. Davey loved to play cornhole so getting out the boards reminds us of many good times throwing some bags with him.

Writing a book about Davey’s life, his death and my journey to find hope after losing a child has helped me include Davey in the life I have pieced together since his death. Writing this blog has helped.

I have shared with you that I put together family picture albums each year and Davey always shows up in those.

Davey left a legacy of love when he taught us to say ‘love you’ instead of good-bye. Now, every time I say it or write it, it feels like Davey is standing right next to me with a smile on his face.

Not every parent who has a lost a child needs to start a foundation or write a book. Each of us has to figure out how this works for us. Some people create traditions for the birthday of the child they lost or start a scholarship for something that was significant in their child’s life.

There is no word that describes the reality of being a parent who has lost a child….

but taking them with us as we move forward honors their lives and gives us a purpose again.

Miss you, Davey.

Love you.

Forever 34

It’s been it’s a struggle to move forward from May 18, 2016.  That’s the day my world blew up.  It’s a day that is etched into my mind by grief and pain – the day my son, David Glasser, who was a Phoenix Police Officer, was killed in the line of duty.

I am blessed with a great group of family, friends and my Blue Family.  I’m learning how to live with only memories of Davey.

It’s not easy. It doesn’t feel right. The empty hole in my life is very evident.

But I have no other choice.

I thank God for no regrets and a ton of precious memories.

Davey’s birthday is this week, November 19th.  He would have been 44 years-old.  We had so much fun on his birthday every year!  His 20th birthday landed on a home Cardinals game – the early years of the Cardinals.  We all had a blast tailgating.  Beer pong was still an approved activity then so there were lots of ping pong balls flying everywhere.  Good times!

asu

Davey’s birthday is right before Thanksgiving so it always felt like his birthday extended into the holiday. He often had an ASU vs UofA Football Watch party the day after Thanksgiving if the big rivalry game was being not being played in town. If the game was in town he was usually tailgating somewhere close to the stadium.  Davey loved ASU and he loved the rivalry.  He graduated from ASU along with most of our family except we have one Wildcat…..and he loved to razz her about it …constantly 🙂

Everybody would come to Davey’s football parties and we would have a great time laughing and playing all day.  Cornhole.  Washers.  Watching the game.  Drinking some Coors Light.  

davey-square

 It’s hard now.  We miss him.  We miss his laugh and his joking and his big smile of delight when he was surrounded by his friends and family.

It’s been over 9 years since I’ve seen his smile in person. I have a re-occurring dream where I see Davey at a distance and I keep following him around trying to talk to him – trying to get him to smile at me. But I can never get close enough. Davey was shot in the back of his head and he has a big patch on his head in my dream. The first time I saw it (in my dream) I couldn’t figure out what it was. Then I realized that was where he was shot. Isn’t it crazy that my subconscious would add that to my dream?

Except for the patch, in my dream Davey looks just like he did in 2016. He looks just like this picture that was taken 2 months before he was killed.

My four special grand darlings are all growing taller and are physically changing a lot as they grown up. The rest of us are growing older with more gray hair, wrinkles, and age spots.

But Davey will stay forever 34…..

Miss you, Davey.

Love you.

It’s A Gift

The gift of clarity.

My world blew up on May 18, 2016 when my son, David Glasser, a Phoenix Police Officer, was killed in the line of duty.  My hopes and dreams crumbled into a pile of painful pieces and everything changed.

Nothing has been the same since that day.  So much grief, so many tears, such a huge hole.

But, as so many things were lost and stripped away, one thing became crystal clear.

My time on earth is very short.  I am not guaranteed tomorrow.  The people I love may not be here tomorrow.

I need to have my priorities straight.  I need to understand what is most important and make sure I’m living to make the most of each day.

The gift of clarity.

God comes first.  He is my Rock and his love for me is the only thing that didn’t shake on May 18, 2016.  He has been my constant companion as hurt and grief and change have turned my life upside these last 9 1/2 years. I have learned that I don’t need to understand everything, I just need to trust God.  He’s got this.

Next priority –  loving other people.  God tells us to love him and to love others for a reason.  God and people are the only things that really count.  All the other things – money, success, houses, stuff – is temporary and just not that important.   People are important.

Love is important.  Davey’s legacy of ‘Love you’ has drastically changed my life since he was killed – saying it to others and having it said to me.  Before Davey’s death my ‘love you’s’ were reserved for only those closest to me.  After his death, I realized that its important to love all of the people around me and they need to hear to it.  So I speak love a thousand times more I ever did before.  I say it and write it to crowds of people who would have never heard those words from me.  And I mean it.  I want the best for you.  I care about you.  I want to contribute to the love in your world because you’re important.

Hearing ‘love you’ from so many of you has been a game-changer for me.  I didn’t realize how much of a difference it has made until I went to Washington, DC for Police Week the year after Davey was killed and met with a group of other mothers whose sons had been killed in the line of duty the year before. We all shared the extreme loss and grief of losing a child.  But I never experienced the dark and hostile place filled with anger and bitterness that many of them were in.  I’m very glad about that – it was hard to even be in the same room with all of it.  I give thanks to God for helping me avoid that negativity and I also give a lot of credit to ‘Love you”.

It’s hard to be negative when you’re surrounded by love.

It’s hard to be bitter when people all around are hugging you and saying ‘love you’.

It’s hard to be angry when every ‘love you’ reminds you of a very special person who also loved you.

I am so grateful that Davey gave us ‘Love you”.  It’s a God thing – God knew it would help us not only survive this tragedy but also move forward in a positive direction, taking Davey with us.  We have loved each other well and it has changed everything.

The gift of clarity.

What is important?

What should I spend my time doing?

What should I spend my money doing?

I am sharing this gift of clarity with you today because today may be my last day.  It may be your’s.

Let’s spend it wisely.

Miss you, Davey.

Love you!