Normally I am not a screamer.

But on this day, I screamed.  And I didn’t stop for a long time.

It was several months after my son, David Glasser, who was a Phoenix Police Officer, was killed in the line of duty.  I remember sitting, staring off into the distance with my mind swirling with pain and grief and anger and confusion.  I don’t know how long I sat there but I know I gradually realized that I had been sitting there a significant amount of time.  And I didn’t feel like what I was doing was helping me deal with my shattered life and my broken heart.

So I thought about an article on grief that I had wanted to read and I eventually found it in a pile.  I am usually an organized person but those months right after Davey died were the most unorganized months of my life.  Nothing seemed to fit anywhere anymore so everything went into a pile.

I’m sorry I can’t tell you the title of this article or the author or where I found it.  This just shows you how well my brain was functioning back then.

One of the suggestions in the article for dealing with extreme grief was to try screaming.  After surviving a tragedy, we often have a lot of emotions that we keep all bottled up inside of us because everyone around us is also hurting and we don’t want to add to their struggle.

So we keep it inside where it fills us with pain, roars in our ears and keeps us awake at night.

The article suggested that screaming might help me get out my emotions and feel better.  I was ready to try just about anything.

They mentioned finding a time when I was alone – for obvious reasons.  I also needed to find a place where I could scream and not end up with the neighbors calling the cops.

Wow- I definitely needed to avoid that scenario.

I went in my closet but it was too small.  Don’t ask my why but I wanted to lay face down somewhere and scream into the floor.

So I laid down on the living room rug, closed my eyes and started screaming.  And I kept screaming.  I had the biggest pity party of my life – screaming my head of as I went through every negative and painful thought and feeling that was rolling around in my head.

I screamed a long time.  When I finally stopped I was exhausted and I had a sore throat.

And I felt lighter.  It felt good.

I got up on the couch and decided that this needed to be a turning point for me.  From then on, I was going to focus on life, not death.  From then on, I was going to be grateful for all I had while Davey was alive and all I still had.  My life was not going to be about what I had lost.

Davey was gone but, for some reason, I was still here.  So I needed to figure out what purpose God still had for me here and do it.

I have cried a million tears between then and now but no more screaming.  The swirling in my head gradually stopped, the stuff in the piles around my house found their place and I am slowly getting used to the hole – some days are harder than others.

I am so extremely grateful for the 34 years we had Davey.

Miss you, Davey.

Love you.

He had the heart of a warrior and

somewhere –

his heart is still beating.

My son, David Glasser, was a Phoenix Police Officer who was killed in the line of duty on May 18, 2016.  He was an organ donor.

Davey was only 34 years-old and in excellent physical condition when he was killed by a shot to his head.  He was able to donate all of his organs and his eyes and his skin.

The actual process of him donating wasn’t easy for me emotionally.  It was hard to say goodbye and walk out of the hospital when drugs were still making his heart beat and machines were making his lungs breath.  But there was no other option.  Davey wanted to be an organ donor so it happened.

As a result, a whole crowd of people are still walking on this earth because they received Davey’s life-giving donations.

And someone got the Heart of a Warrior.

It’s still beating.

This heart beats for justice.

It beats for integrity and honor.

It beats for courage and personal sacrifice.

And it beats strongly for loving God and loving each other.

I believe that each of us has our own Warrior’s Heart.  God gives us things we are passionate about – things that make our hearts beat faster.  We’re all different so these passions are different as well.

The issues that we really care about are the areas where we are supposed to stand up and do something helpful, something positive.

How do I make a difference in this world?

How do you make a difference?

One very easy way we can make a difference is sign up to be an organ donor like Davey.  I’ve done that. Have you?  Members of my family have received organs from other donors so we know what a huge blessing it is to people and their families.

Other ways to make a difference aren’t as easy but we need to figure out how to use our passions and our energy to have a positive effect on our world.  Don’t just talk about it – do it.  What do you get riled up about?  What angers you?  What frustrates you?  That is where your passion lies.  But we can’t let the anger and frustration take over – we have to use this energy for good.  To help.

One of the failures in our current culture is too many people are spending their precious time and resources standing against things and protesting against things.

But what are they standing for?  Their time and resources could be used to help people – used to make something good and positive happen.

It’s a choice.

I choose to help others look to God, especially in the current darkness of our culture.  I choose to support  justice and freedom in our country by standing for the Thin Blue Line between the evil and innocent.

My Warrior’s Heart beats for loving God and loving others.

A little over a year ago,  Joey Gase of Joey Gase Racing put Davey’s name, foundation and  picture on his car when he was racing in Phoenix.  How awesome!  Joey has a Warrior’s heart that beats for organ donation and he uses his very visible career to encourage everyone to sign up.

What does your Warrior’s Heart beat for?

What are you doing about it?

Miss you, Davey.

Love You.

There is a war going on in the streets of our cities. Your city streets. My city streets.

Our police officers are being ambushed and shot and injured and killed. I woke up to the shocking news on Friday morning that 5 Phoenix Police Officers had been shot!

5 officers shot! And 4 more injured. 9 officers! Unbelievable!

They were set up. They were targeted.

Just like my son, David Glasser, who was a Phoenix Police Officer was targeted on May 18, 2016. The young man who murdered him had texted that he was going to kill a police officer that day. And he did. He killed my son.

The good news this week is that all 5 of the Phoenix officers who were shot will recover.

But there is a lot of bad news. The bad news is that recovery for these officers will include various levels of pain and struggle for them and their families. The bad news is that 9 of our warriors were taken off the streets on the same day.

The bad news is the mental anguish all of these families went through when they got that call. The bad news is the mental fallout all of our officers and their families deal with when their brothers and sisters in blue are injured.

The bad news is that the streets of Phoenix are less safe than they were last week. This is happening everywhere as officers are injured and killed and staffing of Police Departments across the country continues to dwindle.

I am praying that – somehow – God will wake up our city officials and city councils. The war is real. The crazies that will put a baby in the middle of a gun fight to get what they want will always be out there – creating chaos and mayhem. Our decision – makers need to understand and support the fact that it is the brave men and women in blue that make our streets safe.

Well, our streets used to be safe.

Miss you, Davey.

Love you.

I hate sirens…because I know.

The sound of sirens makes my stomach churn.

It means members of my Blue Family are rushing to take care of business.  They are putting themselves at risk – not knowing what they are walking into.  Just like my son, David Glasser, a Phoenix Police Officer, didn’t know it would be his last call when he stepped out of his police car on May 18, 2016.

Sirens are a signal that all is not well in my world.

Sirens in the middle of the night are the worst.  When its pitch black and good people are asleep, those with darkness in their souls like to crawl out to do their evil deeds.

And so I pray.

I pray for my brothers and sisters in Blue.  I ask my Father God for wisdom for them.  I ask for courage.  I ask for protection.  And I ask that justice will be served as my Blue Family works to push back some of the evil in my community.

Sometimes these sirens are firefighters speeding through the streets with their sirens and lights.  These first responders are partnering with our Blue family in order to bring order to chaos and help people who are hurt.  I pray for them as the sirens wail through the dark night.

All the while, my stomach churns.  And I pray.

You, my dear brothers and sisters in Blue, are a very unusual breed of people.   You race through the night, in a hurry to take care of the crimes being committed by hateful people.

You run toward the gunfire.

You step into the middle of messes.  You move forward into the danger and are a human shield for others – even when they don’t like you or respect you.  You deal with the drugged liars and cheaters of our world every day, all day.

Meanwhile, the sirens scream through the night and my stomach churns.  And I pray for my Blue Family in uniform, trying to push away the fear.

The fear of what could be happening.

Fear for your wives and husbands.

Fear for your children and your babies.

Fear for your fathers and your mothers.

Fear for your families and friends.

Because I know the danger that accompanies those sirens.

I know what can happen.

The phone call.

The trip to the hospital.

The doctor’s unbelievable words.

And the nightmare.

So I pray.

Parts of the craziness surrounding us because of the pandemic feel very familiar to me.  It feels like I’ve been here before.

The uncertainty.  The concerns.  More bad news coming at me every day.  The world as I know it being gone.

I felt this after my son, David Glasser, who was a Phoenix Police Officer, was killed in the line of duty on May 18, 2016.  So many unknowns.  Painful changes.  Dark days and even darker nights.

First came the unbelievable shock of his death.  Next was the huge funeral -the majority of that day is covered in a fog of pain and grief in my memory.  And then- somehow – those of us that loved him had to find a way to start moving through our days – shell-shocked by what had happened.  My mind swirled daily around the hope that it was all a nightmare….. a long nightmare.

Bad news grew as the reality of life without Davey become clearer.  So much lost – how can we possibly go on?  All of my plans and dreams for the future included Davey.  Every one of them was ripped away.

When our framily (family and friends who are family) got together in those first months, we would often sit in silence….staring.  There was nothing to say.  It was all too horrible.

For months after Davey was killed I wondered why people I saw in public were smiling.  What did they have to laugh about?  It was hard being out around people who were happy with all their dreams still intact.  I felt like an island of pain and grief moving among people who had no idea what it feels like to have your whole world explode.

That’s one of the big differences about our situation today – we are all in it together.  We are all affected.  We are sharing this experience and – for me – this makes it a little easier.

Another huge difference about our situation now is that we are figuring out how to get back our favorite things.   We are playing sports again, we are going out to eat again and we are having parties and seeing our family again.

But Davey will not be coming back. There is no future on this earth that includes him.

That makes it so much harder.

Miss you, Davey.

Love you.

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 5 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.

That’s one of my main goals.  Don’t get stuck.

I have to figure out how to move forward – even when I don’t want to.

It’s not easy.  My world shattered when my son, David Glasser, who was a Phoenix Police Officer, was killed in the line of duty on May 18, 2016.  Each day that followed was empty and the pain intensified each night. My mind wanted to focus on all of my broken dreams. The future I had expected was filled with fun and great times with Davey is never  going to happen.  What I had lost created a huge hole.

And I wanted to stay there.  That felt like the place I was supposed to be…..

Until I looked at my grand darlings, Davey’s son and daughter.  They have their whole lives to live and their lives cannot be all about what they have lost.  Their future is bright and full of possibilities and I need to be a positive, encouraging part of that future.

I also looked at the rest of my family.  We have all been left behind on this earth to accomplish what God has planned for us.  We have a purpose.  We’re not supposed to get lost in the dark places on this road and live there the rest of our short time on this planet.

So it became one of my goals – don’t get stuck.

It’s not easy, moving forward.  As the list of things Davey is missing grows, so does the sadness of not having him here.  As the years go by I lose more and more parts of him and it hurts.  There are days when I don’t want to go forward because it’s just too much of a struggle.

But it’s worth it.  I have met many people on this tough journey whose worlds have been blown apart by a tragedy…. and they are still living in that tragedy every day.  They are angry and bitter and negative.  Honestly, they just are no fun to be around.  They have traded the good things of today for the pain of yesterday.  They have refused to rebuild their dreams for the future and they are mired down in the dark times of the past.

I know that getting stuck and living like that could be easy to do.  But I’m refusing to go there.  I have found that it really helps me to focus my mind on all the good things I had and all the good things I still have.  When my thoughts start to dwell on all of the good things I have lost, I have to stop myself.  None of that thinking is helpful.  That is the slippery slope that slides into the muck where people get stuck.

Being a part of the David Glasser Foundation has also helped me move forward.  Honoring Davey’s legacy by doing positive things in his name really helps the future look brighter.  Sponsoring sports teams and seeing his name on their jerseys brings a lot of joy to me because Davey played basketball and baseball and loved all sports.

There is still a lot of work to be done.  Not everyone needs to start a foundation, but I have suggested to other people who have experienced a huge loss to think about possible ways they could honor the memory of the person they lost and create a positive future.  College scholarships are a great option to remember someone who loved education and help someone else reach their educational goals.  Sports scholarships are also great to remember someone who loved sports and give other kids a chance to improve their skills in the sport.  Remembering the person we lost by helping someone else can reclaim some of the future that was stolen from us when the person we loved left us.

Rebuilding a positive future.  That’s the goal.  That’s the struggle.

And it’s worth it.

Miss you, Davey.

Love you

May 18, 2016 – the real date when my son left this earth.

My son, David Glasser, was a Phoenix Police Officer who was killed in the line of duty on May 18, 2016.  His official End of Watch is May 19th, but he died on the 18th.  You would know that as well if you had seen him.  His body was hooked up to all kinds of machines that were keeping his lungs moving and his heart beating but Davey – the fun, smart, wonderful son, husband, dad, brother and friend  – was gone.  He was already with his Father God.

I am thankful to modern medicine which gave us time to start coming to terms to our new reality.  We had several hours with him in the hospital to figure out how to start to say good-bye.  It helped.

I am thankful that the machines were able to keep his organs alive so that he could fulfill his wish of being an organ donor – giving the gift of life to so many other people.  Our families have been blessed by other organ donors so we know what an important thing this is.  Knowing that helped.

I am thankful for the doctors and nurses who treated Davey with care and respect.  They also were very helpful and understanding to those of us who spent the darkest hours of that night in room next to Davey in unbelief of what was happening.  It helped.

I am thankful for the rooms full of police officers and friends at the hospital who prayed for us and supported us through those awful hours.  It helped.

I am thankful for the family and friends all over the country who prayed for us through that night.   I am thankful for all of the people who prayed for us and didn’t even know us.   It helped.

I am thankful for Dave’s squad who, disregarding their own pain, had the worst job of making telephone calls and getting us to the hospital.   I am also  thankful for the Employee Assistance Unit led by Sgt. Dave Osborne.   Both of these teams promised support and they meant it.   It really helped.

I am thankful for the entire Phoenix Police Department who supported us that night any way they possibly us in any way they could.   They parked our cars so we could run right into the hospital, they brought food, they picked up family at the airport, they took care of the press, they drove us home, they never left their watch on Dave’s room and much more.  It all helped.

I am thankful for Pastor Mark Grochoki, one of our pastors at the time, who somehow found a way through the crowds and lines of police to pray for us in a small, dark corner of the hospital lobby.  It was an oasis of peace in a very long, terrible night.  It helped.

I am thankful for the Police Chaplain, Bob Fesmire, who is so clearly called by God to walk families like ours through the most painful hours of our lives. His words of wisdom cut through the shock and helped us move forward.  He prayed for us through the night when we had no words.  I will never forget his prayer as we said our last goodbyes to Davey before leaving the hospital.  I don’t recall the exact words but I remember God reaching out through them to wrap his arms around me to comfort me.  Bob was God with skin on that night.  He really helped.

May 19 is Dave’s official E.O.W but May 18th was his last day on earth.  Now he lives in our hearts and our memories until we see him again in heaven.

I’m not saying that we need to change the date on all the plaques and forms.

I just wanted you to understand why I always use May 18th.

Miss you, Davey.

Love you.

My son, David Glasser, was a Phoenix Police Officer who was killed in the line of duty on May 18, 2016.

And he’s more alive now than he ever was on earth.

Because he put his faith in Jesus as his Savior, Davey is in heaven right now with his Father God.  No more evil, no more pain, no more worries.

Davey is with God so he is whole and more happy than we can possibly be.  Here on earth, we have times of joy and fulfillment, but they are fleeting.  The next moment or next hour brings concerns or trials.  We get tired or sick.  We become sore, bruised or broken.  Something that we thought was going to make us happy doesn’t happen and disappointment comes flooding in.

Davey doesn’t have any of that.  There is no evil in heaven, only good.  Only great!

God doesn’t talk about a lot of details concerning heaven in his Word and I think that’s because we just cannot understand how awesome it is.  Our words can’t describe it.  God uses words like ‘mansions’ and ‘streets of gold’ trying to give us an idea of a place like we’ve never seen before.  I think heaven is better than that.  I don’t want a mansion, I just want to hang with God.  I don’t need a street of gold to know that I’m in the exactly right place.

Davey is already in that exactly right place.  He got his reward – that’s how God sees it.  Davey no longer has to deal with the pain and confusion of this world.  He has everything he ever wanted in heaven.  Here’s a picture of one of Davey’s famous smiles – he wears this smile all day every day now.

I believe that people in heaven have very little if any interaction on earth.  People tell me about signs they get from their loved ones that have passed away and I believe that is God.  God is trying to talk to us and guide us and love us every day so he sometimes comforts us with things that remind us of the people we loved and lost.  I’ve had some dreams and signs that I believe are from God on Davey’s behalf.  God knew that they would give me hope and a smile.

When my father passed away suddenly over 40 years ago, three significant things he would have wanted for our family happened right away.  I believe God was rewarding my father’s faithfulness by tying up some loose ends and blessing my family.  I believe there are unusual circumstances where people from heaven come back to visit earth – a couple of those are documented in the Bible.  But usually, our loved ones move on….and I will understand that more when I get there.

The subtitle of this blog is ‘When the Worst Happens’.  Those of us who have put our trust in Jesus know that Davey being killed is not the worst that can happen.  The worst that could happen is Davey – or anyone- dying without accepting salvation through Jesus.

That is the ultimate worst that can happen.

Please don’t let that happen to you.

Miss you, Davey.

Love you.

If you have had a child die, you know that it is one of the worst things that can happen to you.   For some of us it is definitely THE worst thing that could ever happen to us.

As a young adult, I worked hard at facing my fears and I realized many years ago that the only fear I had left was that something bad would happen to one of my children.  A couple of years after that realization, my daughter was diagnosed with cancer.  It changed her life but it was caught early and there have been no more signs of cancer.

I thought that was enough.  That was my fear coming true and it was a tough, scary time.

I didn’t know a tsunami that far exceeded anything I was afraid of was building up steam and heading my way.  It hit on May 18, 2016 when my son, David Glasser, a Phoenix Police Officer, was killed in the line of duty as he was responding to a robbery call.  The waves of grief and anger and pain roared over my life – foaming, surging and destroying.  They violently ripped away any expectations I had for today and totally decimated my dreams for tomorrow.

The waves roared all night and grew stronger in the darkness.

But they were most painful in the daylight when I could see the desolation they had left.

The holes.

The emptiness.

The loss.

My two fatherless grandchildren.

This storm left my ‘stuff’ but took my son.   And I would give everything I own for one more hour with Davey.

To see his smile.

Hear his laughter.  And his jokes.

And one more ‘love you’.

Surviving the worst has taken away all of my fears.  Because fearing that something bad would happen did not change the facts about the bad things that happened to my children.

Fear is useless.

Fear does nothing but stop us from doing things we should do.

Fear keeps us on the defensive.  It keeps us cowering in the corner.

My prayer for all of us who have experienced the worst is that we will find courage in knowing we have survived.  I pray that we will act on  that courage because we survived for a purpose.  And I pray that we will set aside our useless fears so we can make the time we have left on this planet count.  Because our time is short – often much shorter than we know.

Davey would be extremely proud of the David Glasser Foundation which was created to continue his fight against hate and ignorance and violence.  He would love the reality of all of us working together to push back the darkness – one step at a time.  We are not stuck on yesterday, afraid that something else that’s bad is going to happen today or tomorrow.  It probably will – our fears will not stop it.  But our actions might.

With courage and conviction, we are moving forward, continuing Davey’s battle and making it our own.

The challenge I give everyone today is to figure out how to be a part of the fight for what’s right.  You are welcome to join with us by donating to the David Glasser Foundation or find your own battle.  There is much work to be done to reestablish truth, honor, respect, and love in our country.

May God give all of us the courage we need to do our part in helping to make that happen.

Miss you, Davey.

Love you.