I would like to write a nice, ‘feel good’ blog for Mother’s Day. But it isn’t happening.
What’s happening is a rollercoaster of bittersweet emotions on this Mother’s Day. Some of the issue for me is the fact that my son, David Glasser, a Phoenix Police Officer, was killed on May 18, 2016 – right after Mother’s Day. So the horror of that day has overshadowed my Mother’s Day ever since. The permanent, painful changes in my life emphasize the hole in my heart – especially on this day.
The last Mother’s Day I had with Davey was just 10 days before he was shot and killed. I was told later that he had the opportunity for some off-duty work that day but he turned it down, saying he wanted to spend the day with the ‘mothers’ in his life. That doesn’t surprise me – that’s who he was. He had his priorities straight.
Davey also knew I was alone that day because my husband had taken an emergency flight to Pennsylvania. My husband’s father had just died. Yes, my father-in-law passed away two weeks before our son was killed. Have you ever felt the crushing impact of multiple bombs going off in your life?
When I remember that Mother’s Day, all I can think about is sitting outside at lunch with Davey. I remember what it felt like to hang out with him – to laugh and have fun. I remember how different my world felt with him in it.
My Mother’s Day will never be the same. There is an important person missing.
But then I remember how thankful I am to have my daughter and four gorgeous grand darlings – each one of them is such a blessing in my life! When I focus on them, Mother’s Day starts to sparkle again. All the possibilities! All the new memories to make! Watching my grand darlings grow into their own personalities and strengths is awesome. Watching Davey’s children mature has the added joy of seeing glimpses of him as they exhibit traits they inherited from their dad.
If you have experienced the loss of a child, you know the rollercoaster that I’m describing. Dark days and then the light shines through. Things going smooth….until they don’t. Several days without tears and then a day when it’s hard to stop the waterfall.
Mother’s day – it’s bitter sweet when you have lost a child.
Miss you, Davey.