I never thought this would be me……..

visiting the cemetery every week to clean the gravestone of my son, David Glasser, who was a Phoenix Police Officer killed in the line of duty May 18, 2016.

But here I am again-

praying for all of us that are left behind.  I don’t talk to Davey when I’m here because I believe that his spirit is at home with his heavenly Father.  I talk to God who is here, right beside us, – loving us and caring for us.  God wants all of us who are broken-hearted to reach out to him for peace and strength and comfort.

There are several fallen officers buried right around Davey so I often walk around straightening blue line flags and praying for all the families, friends and co-workers who are sharing this very tough road of pain and loss with me.  Some days I am overwhelmed by the mountain of the plans and dreams which were stripped away from all of us.  Other days I am reminded of the honor these men deserve because of their sacrificial commitment to what is right and good in our country.

We all have to figure how to navigate this rocky road of grief and we all do it differently.  The first year after Davey was killed, visiting the cemetery was extremely hard for me but I felt the need to make sure his ‘spot’ was as clean as it can be because the cemetery management told me this area with the fallen officers is the most visited place in the cemetery.  The sun just seemed to be extra harsh there so we planted a tree right by Davey’s spot.  If you’ve been reading my blogs, you know the first tree died.  That’s appropriate, isn’t it?  But the second tree is looking good and is actually starting to provide some shade which is a big relief in the Phoenix summer.

Each week, as I step into the shade of Davey’s tree, it feels like a breath of God’s comfort in this desolate place.

I have also starting hanging things from the tree that have special meaning for me.  It wasn’t too long ago that I hung the wind chime given to us from the Donate Life organization on the tree.  I had to wait until the tree grew strong enough to hold it because it’s a heavy wind chime.   When I attached the windchime onto one of the larger branches, it felt like I had also waited until I had grown strong enough to honor this part of Davey’s death.

I was recently travelling through Germany, picking up little things to give people back home, when I saw a metal tree ornament with a heart on it and realized I wanted to bring something back for Davey’s tree.  It just felt right.  Davey loved to travel and our family got the chance to take a lot of trips together.  Great memories.

So now this heart hangs next to the windchime on Davey’s tree and I plan to add more things from future travels.

One of the realities of the cemetery is that it’s open to the public and the cemetery management also cleans up all the ‘extra’ things a couple of times of year.  Everything I have put out there becomes dirty and old from the weather and many things have blown away and disappeared through the last 3 years.

At first that really bothered me.  Each small loss reminded me of the huge loss in my life that Davey’s spot represents.

Now I have learned to hold all the ‘stuff’ out there loosely, while holding my love and memories of Davey close to my heart.

Miss you, Davey.

#8144loveyou

It’s done.

My 2016 Family Yearbook is complete and the finished product will be showing up in my mailbox any day.  Thanks for taking this journey with me as I have had to figure out each step of the way.  I didn’t expect this to be such a soul-searching, emotion-packed process.  First, I sobbed through getting the front page done dedicating this book to my son, David Glasser, a Phoenix Police Officer who was killed in the line of duty on May 18, 2016.

Then I couldn’t touch for book for 3 years without struggling with the extreme pain and grief of the loss of Davey.

But, gradually my memories of 2016 have become more precious than painful to me.  As I finished the book, I realized I needed to change the title as well because Davey’s legacy has evolved the fall-out from this tragedy into a story about the power of love.  God’s love and the love we have for each other has re-named this journey and for that, I am very grateful.

So now I face getting to work on our 2017 Family Yearbook.

But it’s hard to start.

Because there is no way I’m going to make a family yearbook without Davey.

Not happening.

I know he will always be a part of us.  I see him in the faces and actions of both of his children.  His pictures are everywhere.  Who he was and who he is influences the lives of his family and friends today.  He lives in our hearts.  Davey’s legacy of love has changed us.

He has never left us.  He was a part of our lives in 2016 and he continues to be a part of our lives today.  So my plan is, as I fill the pages of our 2017 yearbook and all the books to come, I will include pictures of Davey through the years at Christmas, Davey at Easter, Davey on his birthday, Davey at the birth of his children and more.  I’m sure that these great memories will bring smiles to our faces as we realize that he is still a part of us.  I wasn’t doing family yearbooks when he was a kid so his early year photos will give a better picture of who he was to his children and grandchildren.

All of our family yearbooks are going to have pictures of Davey in them.

He’s coming with us.

Miss you, Davey.

#8144loveyou

 

I didn’t see this coming.

When I started blogging about my 2016 Family Yearbook a couple of weeks ago, I shared with you that I had discovered I have turned a corner.  I had struggled for the last 3 years trying to document my family’s journey through 2016 but the grief and pain stopped me.  Time after time, with tears rolling down my face, I had to close the computer and walk away.

But that changed a couple of weeks ago.   When I sat down this time to try to get past the first page dedicating the book to my son, David Glasser, who was a Phoenix Police Officer killed in the line of duty on May 18, 2016, I found that the memories of the months right before and after his death have gradually become more precious than painful.

I realize now that this tough road we have been on is an extremely important part of the story of my family.  These memories and pictures and events need to be put into order so that my grandchildren and their children and their children will have a good picture of what happened to their family in 2016 – when the worst happened.

So I’ve been working hard and I am glad to say that our 2016 family yearbook is almost complete.  I just have to find a couple of more photographs that I know are out there, just not quite sure where they are. (This is one of my motivations for doing these books in the first place)

As I was reading through the yearbook, adjusting pictures and adding captions, I started looking at the title that I had given to this book 3 years ago – “2016- Defined by Tragedy, Touched by Love”.

That’s how I felt 3 years ago…..

My world had exploded.  The loss of Davey was overwhelming.  There was no end to the reminders of the dreams and plans that had died with him.  Waking up each day, hoping that it was all a nightmare and then discovering it wasn’t made my world a much darker and sad place.   This tragedy had stripped away my joy.

So the title fit –

then.

It doesn’t fit anymore.

Looking back over these last 3 years, I had to change it.

Here’s the new title –  “2016 – Touched by Tragedy, Defined by Love”

Davey’s last gift to us was “love you”.  He said it all the time instead of ‘good-bye”.  He knew what we have now discovered- that love changes things.  Love has given us light in the midst of the darkness.  Love has made the hole Davey left bearable.  Love has created new relationships tied to our mutual tragedy that will be very important to us for the rest of our lives.  Love has eased the despair and given us a new hope that our lives can be good again.

Thank you, Davey, for your legacy of love.

Miss you.

#8144loveyou

After reading my blog last week, did this question pop into your head?  What changed?

Why did my memories of what my family went through since my son, David Glasser, was killed in the line of duty of May 18, 2016 change from painful to precious?

It’s obvious to me.

Love changed everything.  God’s love and the love of others changed the road where I was dumped on May 18th from a dark and endless struggle to a tough but valuable journey.

After many years on this earth, I discovered several new things about love after Davey’s death.  God’s love has never shone brighter to me than when I was thrown down into a deep, black pit of grief.  I had never before experienced the supernatural strength of God’s perfect love for me.   I know I will never fully understand it but I feel it – every day.

Davey’s last words to all of us were “Love you” and, when we started following his example, something special happened.  It’s hard to be angry when, where ever you go, people are telling you they love you.  It’s hard to be bitter when you are surrounded by people who are not only telling you but they are also showing they love you.  It’s hard to feel alone when people are constantly reaching out their loving arms to hug you and tell you they love you.

It took time, but love gradually changed everything.  My first clue that love was affecting my journey was when God asked me to start writing this blog 6 months after Davey died.  I realized then that I had a unique story to tell.   My eyes were opened farther when I went to Police Week in Washington, DC as a first year survivor in 2017 where many mothers shared how bitter and extremely angry they were.  I was not feeling any of that – God’s love and the love of others was already making a big difference in my life.

Davey knew that love was the central ingredient of a full and fun life – even in the middle of the struggles this world brings us.

He gave me this last gift that has made all the difference.

Love you, Davey.  Miss you.

#8144loveyou

I love pictures – especially pictures of my family.

Now that we all walk around every day with good cameras on our phones, those of us who love pictures have a lot of great ones of the events and activities of our lives.

But the pictures are on our phones.

Or they are on Facebook for those of us who are into that.  Or in our clouds – where ever that is.  Ten years from now, when my grandchildren want to look back on family history, where will they look?  Scroll through everybody’s phones? Maybe we’ll have an electronic process that’s easy and convenient by then.  We don’t have anything like that now.

This has motivated me to electronically create family yearbooks and give each member of my family a copy for Christmas.  I love pictures, I have a creative side and I’m pretty good on the computer so making the books for everyone has been a joy…..

until 2016.

That was the year my son, David Glasser, a Phoenix Police Officer was killed in the line of duty on May 18th.  My world exploded.  The story of our family turned dark and sad and painful.

In November of 2016 I sat down to start our family yearbook and I attempted to make the first page – a dedication page to Davey.  It took me several weeks of struggling to complete just that first page because of my grief.  I would put a box of tissues next to me, determined to get past that first page but I just couldn’t.  Sobs made my hands shake and the anguish in my broken heart would overwhelm me.  Each time I tried, I had to stop.  The emotional fall-out of trying to put together the pictures of the tragedy that happened in our lives in 2016 would follow me around like a dark cloud for several days.

So I stopped working on the 2016 family yearbook.  Whenever I thought about it in 2017, I just ignored it.  Whenever I thought about it in 2018, I would log in and attempt to start working on it, but it hurt.

Too heart wrenching.

Too many tears.

I just couldn’t deal with documenting the year we lost Davey.  I thought about skipping 2016 and going on to 2017 but that was impossible.  There was no way I could skip 2016 – our world had totally changed, we had experienced the worst and we had all moved to a different place.  A 2017 yearbook wouldn’t make any sense without a 2016 book.

So each time I sat down to work on the 2016 book, I would end up staring at the dedication page with tears rolling down my face.  Then I would quit and close my computer.  I did this every 3 to 4 months….

until recently.

I opened up my computer a couple of weeks ago to log in and see if I could get past the first page of our family yearbook for 2016.  And, somehow, this time, it felt very right to be documenting my family’s extremely tough journey through that year.  I treasured the pictures and memories of the days before May 18th.  I loved fitting the pictures on the pages – remembering special moments of Davey’s last months.

And the pictures we took after May 18th actually filled some gaps in my memory caused by the fog of grief and the swirling in my head.  They are important memories of how we struggled together to find a new normal.

I realized that I have turned a corner on this road of loss.  My memories have now become more precious than painful.  

There are still tears but the pictures taken before Davey’s death in 2016 are priceless because – we didn’t know it then – but these were our last moments with him.  Every picture after his death is also important because they chronicle our journey together as we started down this very tough road without Davey.

Adding pages to these books adds cost and, in the past, that has helped me limit how many pictures I include in a book.  Not this book.  This book is going have every picture that is important to the story of our family in 2016.  I’ve been working on it for weeks and I’m not done yet because I keep remembering great pictures of special moments that I still need to add. I’m including my favorite blog of that year as well – It Has Been Decided.

When they sit down with this book, my grandchildren and great grandchildren will have a great view into our family’s journey through the toughest year of our history.

That makes me excited about completing our 2016 book.

And I’m so very grateful that my memories have become more precious than painful.

Miss you, Davey.

#8144loveyou

 

My life has an ‘after’.

My world blew up when my son, David Glasser, a Phoenix Police Officer, was killed in the line of duty.   Many of my expectations and dreams for what my future was going to be were snatched away.   Now there is a ‘before’ and an ‘after’ – a major dividing line – in my life.

I talked about ‘before’ in my last blog.   I think it is ironic that thinking about ‘before’ is not without its struggles because it reminds me of all that is lost.  There used to be a light in my life that is has dimmed and a wholeness in my life that is now gone.

‘After’ is clearly the loser in the comparison of the two halves of my life.  I never expected to feel this level of grief or pain.  My father, mother and oldest brother have all passed away but I didn’t know until now that experiencing the death of a child could feel this horrible.

‘After’ is an extremely tough place to be.  It’s hard to move when my heart is shattered.  Everything seems to be ‘less’ than what it was ‘before’.  I have good times….until I’m reminded about all that is missing.

At the beginning of this journey, it felt like l was dropped into the middle of a deep dark jungle – extremely harsh, lots of traps, sometimes struggling just to take my next step, and not really wanting to move forward because Davey wasn’t going to be there.  The shock was so great and the grief was so heavy that it was a challenge to get up and face the mountain of pain that each day brought.

I am so grateful that God has been there to walk beside me each step, taking me through the jungle and helping me to start seeing the light again.  I have learned many life-changing lessons on this journey so far.  Here are a few:

Love really does change things.  Davey said “love you’ to everyone he cared about instead of ‘good-bye” and all of us who loved him were blessed by this when he was quickly gone.   So we all started following his role-model and it changed this very tough road we’re on.  Loving each other and saying it out loud helped us in ways that are hard to explain unless you’ve experienced it.  “Love you” was Davey’s final gift to us all.

I have an entirely different view now of the courage it takes to be a Police Officer.  They face unbelievable things every day and they do it because they care.  That kind of caring runs deep within the hearts of Police Officers, making them go out each day to face the worst our city and our neighborhoods have to offer.  And so many people don’t even appreciate it.

Obviously, I have taken a very personal journey into the sacrifice that Police Officers make for the people in their communities.  They regularly sacrifice other things in their lives in order to do their jobs well and be part of what’s going right in our city.  Some officers, like my son, sacrifice everything – that’s the risk they all take each day as they step out of their front door to do their job.

I also have a new understanding of the place that honor takes in the life of a Police Officer.  There is honor in always taking the high road – being the voice of reason and caring – when they are out on the streets of our city, working to keep all of us safe.  There is honor in the traditions and ceremonies that happen in the lives of our Police Officers.  There is honor in remembering our fallen heroes.

Love, courage, sacrifice and honor are woven together into the souls of Police Officers, making them able to stand for what is right even when they are face-to-face with evil.  They are special.  They are ‘the good guys’.

And I’m proud that Davey was and is one of them.

Miss you, Davey.

#8144loveyou

My life has a ‘before’.

Before my son, David Glasser, a Phoenix Police Officer, was killed in the line of duty on May 18, 2016, my world was a different place.

It was a place where my family was whole.  When I think back to ‘before’, there is a special light that shows up in my memories and that light has now disappeared.

My husband and I lived 1 1/2 miles from Davey and his family the last 6 years of his life so I could expect to see him or at least talk with him almost every day.  He would regularly drop by unannounced for something – anything.  He loved people so he was always in search of people to talk to, people to hang out with.  Most of the time Davey had his son, Micah, with him when he dropped by and he wanted his dad to come along wherever they were going – Home Depot, Best Buy, where ever.  His then five year-old son, Micah, called Best Buy ‘daddy’s store’ so that gives you an idea of how often they went there.

Davey was a planner – always thinking about the next good time, the next tailgate, the next trip, the next get together.  There was a feeling of excitement and anticipation when he was around because there were good times coming.  Guess whose idea it was to have some fun with the leaning tower of Pisa when we toured Italy?

He was open and friendly, gathering friends wherever he went.

I miss Davey’s light in my life.

My struggle with the darkness, grief and pain this last 3 years has been tough.  I have often felt the gloom hanging over me, my longing for ‘before’ crowding out any joy of today.

It’s been a battle.  God has given me strength and has increased my faith through these awful days.  He has given me a lot of family and framily (friends who are family) including my Blue framily who have loved me and brought their own special light into my life.

I have started to see some of the lessons God is teaching me through this terrible journey.

One of my big lessons is about gratitude.

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

Words cannot express how grateful I am.  I have realized, when I focus on my gratitude for how awesome Davey was and all the great times we spent together, some of Davey’s light seeps back into my life.  Memories become warm and good instead of painful.  When I am grateful for the time we had with Davey, my world seems less empty and much less sad.

God gave us a precious gift for 34 years.

And I am extremely grateful.

Miss you, Davey.

#8144loveyou

It’s a constant battle.

My son, David Glasser, was a Phoenix Police Officer who was killed in the line of duty on May 18, 2016.  My heart was crushed and my life exploded.

I never use the word ‘healing’ in this journey because that sounds to me like all the pain and grieving heals up and fades away.  That’s simply not true in my life.  The hole Davey’s death left in my life is actually growing larger because he is missing more and more moments and times and events where he should have been…..where he would have been.  That hole is not ‘healing’.  I’m just getting used to it.

I acknowledge that I have accumulated many battle scars since May 2016.  These are places in my life which were torn apart when Davey was killed.  These are the aspects of this tragedy where I have fought and I have cried and I have prayed – and I have moved forward.  I’ve got the scars to prove it.

The Swirl

For the first several months after Davey’s death, thoughts would swirl through my head – not making sense.  My brain was in such shock that it didn’t know how to file all the overwhelming feelings and new, horrible facts that were blowing like a tornado through my life. I have never experienced that before.  Gradually, I learned to stop the swirl.  When it would start, I made my mind focus on something good in my life and concentrate on that.  Gradually, my thoughts would calm down to where my brain could start filing ideas and reactions and feelings in the right places.  This battle brought peace back into my life – one step at a time.  Now, I can see the swirl in people’s eyes when I meet someone who has experienced a recent tragedy.  Been there, done that.  I have fought that fight and it makes me more compassionate for others who are dealing with ‘the swirl’.

Fallen but not forgotten.

Losing someone you love in a law enforcement line of duty death is so different from other deaths.  It’s very public and there are crowds of people involved at all levels.  With Davey, our whole city grieved.  Our Blue Family across the country grieved.  Every May, we have several memorials where all fallen officers are recognized and remembered.  Police Week in Washington, DC is a huge memorial for all of the heroes we have lost.  Participating in these memorials is right and good.  It’s also a battle as waves of emotions and memories are fueled by these events.  The long list of all the things that have been lost is highlighted in bright flashing lights during these memorials.  This battle creates multiple levels of scars because it happens again…..and again….and again….and again.

The Future.

I grieve over all of Davey’s lost plans and dreams.  My heart breaks a little bit more every time the thought of a dream that has been snatched away comes up and slaps me in the face.  It feels like a slap because it. will. never. be.  And it’s a stab into the parts of my heart that are broken.  I have met people who have gotten stuck in this spot.  They have chosen to give up the good that is coming when they decide to stay in the past, focused on what they have lost.  It’s tempting to do that and avoid the battle of figuring out how to move forward.  But I refuse to live in the past.  I submit to God’s plans for the future.  I trust that he has a purpose for all of this and I will move forward, knowing there are more battles yet to come.

The battles are real.  They are tough.  They hurt.  But figuring them out and winning is worth it.

Miss you , Davey.

#8144loveyou

Somewhere on this painful journey since my son was killed in the line of duty, I realized that I needed to turn my head….

and focus my eyes to the future.

I will never stop grieving so, with tears rolling down my face, I had to pick up the pieces of my heart that were smashed and broken on May 18, 2016 and move forward.

Because I’m still living….

and there is more life happening.  There is much more ‘life’ coming my way.  And this is true of all of my family, friends and Davey’s squad – everyone who felt some of the light in their world go out on May 18, 2016 still has a life to live.  God has a purpose for why we are still breathing.

I only have to look at my two little fatherless grandchildren to be reminded that their whole lives are in front of them.  They have just begun.  And I want to be a fun and positive part of their future.

I look at my daughter and her family and I know that we have many great times filled with precious moments ahead.

Seeing my friends and all of the awesome Blue Family members who have become so important to us, helps me remember that the future holds countless opportunities for special times which make priceless memories.

So I’m challenged to figure out how to move positively into the future.  I’m not leaving Davey behind – I’m taking him and all of my cherished memories with me. He loved people and he loved to have fun.  He would want that for all of us.

Davey will always be a part of what is happening – even in the future.  Because he is a part of us.

And we will never forget.

Miss you, Davey.

#8144loveyou