The fence is down.
I”m talking about the fence around the Phoenix Memorial Cemetery where my son, David Glasser, a Phoenix Police Officer killed in the line of duty on May 18, 2016, is buried.
I hope the management of the cemetery doesn’t read this blog because the truth is that the fence never kept anybody out anyway. The cemetery opens at 8 am and they close the gates when the sun goes down.
But the closed gates don’t keep anybody out. I know of several night visits by groups of Davey’s friends who jumped over the fence. There are ripped pants to prove it. You know who you are.
After talking with other people visiting this area of the cemetery where several fallen officers are buried, I have discovered that jumping over the fence for a night visit is not an unusual occurrence.
This doesn’t surprise me. Darkness highlights the emptiness we feel.
The hole in our lives feels huge after the sun goes down.
As the night wraps around us, loneliness grows. Sometimes we’re surrounded by people but our heart longs for that one person. The person who is missing.
And their spot on this earth is at the cemetery……
this is where we said our last good-byes……
so we go over the fence.
Before the fence came down, it was in bad shape. So I’m assuming the cemetery will be putting up a new one.
I hope it’s not a very high fence.
I guess it doesn’t matter. On those difficult, lonely nights a fence won’t stop anybody.
Miss you, Davey
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