The pain is burned into my memory.
The grief is deeply etched into my soul.
That day – the day my son, David Glasser who was a Phoenix Police Officer, was killed in the line of duty. May 18, 2016.
It’s the day when my life as I knew it exploded. All my expectations for the future had Davey in them so it was all ripped away, leaving a huge, hurting hole in my life. After almost seven years, I know that nothing will ever fill that hole.
I totally understand why people like me get stuck in a pit of despair. I’ve been there. I was violently pushed into a deep, dark place of grief by Davey’s death …. and I wanted to stay there. Clutching his smile, his jokes, his integrity, and his love for others close to my heart, I didn’t want to move. The dark felt good and right – my shattered heart felt right at home.
But my head knew that – somehow – I was going to need to crawl out of that pit. I knew I could not let myself get stuck there.
With God’s help, I moved toward the light. One step at a time. Some days my steps went backwards but I was moving. I made myself look up instead of back and, when I looked up, I saw my two little grand darlings – Davey’s children – who needed me. I saw my daughter and husband who needed me. I saw other family members and friends who needed me. There is a reason I was still here and it was not to stay in that dark, terrible, but somehow comforting pit.
Looking back I realize that lying under the need to stay in the pit was a numbing fear that, if I moved forward, I would leave Davey behind. That hasn’t happened. All of my love and memories of him have moved forward with me. He was and is and always will be a part of me. He’s not here but he’s not gone.
For Davey, there are no more tomorrows here on earth but those of us left behind have important tomorrows where we need to be engaged and loving and – somehow – find hope again. It’s the hope that only faith in God can give.
So the challenge for me and for you is to love others around us like there is no tomorrow because, someday, there won’t be.
Miss you, Davey.