I’m Not Happy

I was talking with a friend recently and the topic of whether we were ‘happy’ or not came up. I remembered that I used to ask my husband if he was happy every once in awhile to see what he would say.

But I don’t do that anymore. Since our son, David Glasser, who was a Phoenix Police Officer was killed in the line of duty on May 18, 2016, I know what his answer would be.

No.

That’s my answer, too.

I have good times and happy moments. I tend to be a positive person with a smile on my face. I know I am blessed in many ways. But the general feeling ‘I am happy about my life’ is gone now that Davey is no longer here. I cannot imagine a time this side of heaven when I would say I am ‘happy’ about my circumstances.

Don’t worry, I’m fine. I’m just being truthful. If you have not lost a child, you may not understand this and I hope you never do. If you have lost a child, you are probably shaking your head ‘yes’ as you read this.

I don’t think the word ‘healing’ fits a situation like mine. My heart is broken and it’s not going to ‘heal’. It’s been over 10 years and my heart remains broken. I’m gradually getting used to living with a broken heart.

I’ve never been much of a crier…..until Davey was killed. Now my eyes fill with tears very easily whenever something touches a piece of my broken heart. Tears stream down my face regularly – especially as I write these blogs. And I know that’s healthy – letting the emotion out and dealing with the grief is a good thing.

I have learned to be grateful for 34 years with Davey because that’s all I’m getting. I am grateful that I’m getting more than 34 years with my daughter and I cherish any time I get to spend with my 4 grand darlings because life is short. We never know. Everything could change tomorrow – or later today. I’ve been there.

The fact that my son is dead will not be changing so I don’t see my overall ‘happiness’ level concerning the circumstances of my life changing, either. That’s just how it is.

Miss you, Davey.

Love you.

When There’s No Tomorrow

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.  Itโ€™s now over 10 years later and 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 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.

Love you.

Left Behind

It’s hard.

Very tough.

When someone you love dies, the emotions are strong, the grief is heavy and the loss is extremely painful.  After losing my son, my mom and dad, all 3 of my older brothers, along with all of my grandparents and all of my aunts and uncles as well as some friends, I feel like I’ve experienced a lot of death.

Each one is different.  Each relationship is different. 

My son, David Glasser, was a Phoenix Police Officer who was killed in the line of duty over 10 years ago. His death has been the most difficult for me – by far.  I think one of the things that makes this loss so huge is how young he was – he was only 34 years-old.  We lost so much of his life.  I can’t imagine any death being more difficult that his.

Davey loved God, he loved his family and friends and he loved the city he served and protected. He lived life to its fullest, sharing his faith regularly and he left a legacy of love to those of us who have been left behind.

So I’m very interested when God starts talking about why the righteous die in Isaiah 57:

“No one understands that the righteous are taken away to be spared from evil.” verse 1.

I believe that everything God says is true.  He knows the future and sometimes he chooses to spare his children from bad and evil things that would happen to them if they stayed on earth.  I believe that Davey completed his purpose on earth so God took him home.  No more evil will be done to him.

God sees our death on earth as a reward because, as believers, we get to go home to be with him. “Those who walk uprightly enter into peace; they find rest as they lie in death.” vs 2.

Their bodies remain here on earth but their souls are free and filled with joy as they walk hand-in-hand with Jesus into heaven. Those of us here on earth who have put our faith in Jesus will experience this joy as well someday.

Today you may be traveling this very difficult road of grief with me after losing a child but those of us who have accepted salvation and made Jesus the Lord of our lives have hope because we know how our journey on earth ends.

Please comfort those of us who have been left behind, Abba Father.

I’m Not Mad

People have asked me if I got mad at God when Davey was killed.  My son, David Glasser, was a Phoenix Police Officer who was killed in the line of duty on May 18, 2016.

Looking back, I cannot remember a moment when I was mad at God.  I know many people have that reaction when tragedy strikes because we know that God is in total control of what happens on earth and now this horrible thing has happened to us.

That is not my response.

After thinking about it, I figured out that I didn’t get mad at God because I learned the truth more than 25 years earlier that God is not Santa Claus.  He doesn’t exist to grant all of my wishes.

God is not here to do what I want him to do.  I am here to do what God wants me to do.

That’s a very important difference.

God is perfect, he is all-knowing and all-powerful.  He is the Uncreated One – eternal.  It’s all about him, not about me.

I also know that God is good, all the time.  He loves me, he wants the best for me and he is working all things out for my good.  My current circumstances don’t change these facts.

We spent the night Davey was shot in the hospital praying for a miracle. In the midst of praying and asking everyone I saw to pray for a miracle, I was thinking about the great story we would get to tell when Davey miraculously got better. As the night progressed, more tests were done and it became painfully obvious that Davey had already left us. There was no miracle for us that night.

I remember thinking in the midst of my black swirling cloud of grief, “God is not writing a story of him doing a miracle and Davey getting better.ย  There is something else going on.ย  God is doing something different.”

Faith is about trusting in God even when we don’t understand.  Faith is about trusting in God even when we’re struggling with too much pain, too much loss, too much sorrow.  Faith is about trusting God even when tomorrow looks dark and it’s not a place we want to go.

The fact is that I’m still here because God has things he wants me to do.  That gives me purpose and helps me focus my eyes above instead of what’s behind me.  God is training my eyes to see beyond what is right in front of me.

I’m not mad. I’m grateful to God for his love and guidance through this worst time in my life. I’m grateful for all the blessings I have in my life right now. I’m grateful for all of the kindness and grace and love so many people have shown me and my family in these last 10 years.

And I’m extremely grateful for the 34 1/2 years on earth that I got to spend with Davey.

Miss you, Davey.

Love you.