The word “survivors” used to make me think about people who have lived through shipwrecks and plane crashes. These were people who had experienced the ravages of tragedy first hand and had lived through it.
Right after my son, David Glasser who was a Phoenix Police Officer, was killed in the line of duty on May 18, 2016, people started calling my family ‘survivors’. Lost in shock and pain the first year after Davey died, it didn’t make sense to me.
Now it does – I definitely feel like a survivor.
Sometimes my life since the day Davey was killed seems like a train wreck that hasn’t stopped yet. Railroad cars filled with my hopes and dreams of what my life was going to be like with Davey in it keep coming. But the track broke almost 5 years ago,
and the cars fall off the track –
one by one,
into a deep,
There’s a big pile of my broken dreams at the bottom of this ravine.
And the cars keep coming,
they keep falling.
The pile is growing bigger.
Other days, it feels more like we were all on a ship that was hit by an enormous hurricane. The storm was totally unexpected. It was huge and ferocious. When our ship crashed into the rocks and the storm lifted a little, we were washed up on an unknown shore – missing one very special person.
We landed in a place we never wanted to be. But we’re here together. The old ship is gone. We’re all figuring out how to live in this new place.
I would have never imagined that surviving was this difficult. With a heart that is smashed into a million pieces and with a huge hole in my life, I’m learning how to not just survive in this new place, but to thrive. God had a purpose for taking Davey to his forever home and he has a purpose for leaving me here.
The same can be said for you if you’ve been left behind after tragically losing someone.
There’s a reason.
We survive for a purpose.
Miss you, Davey.