It’s been it’s a struggle to move forward from May 18, 2016.  That’s the day my world blew up.  That’s the day my son, David Glasser, who was a Phoenix Police Officer, was killed in the line of duty.

I am blessed with a great group of family, friends and my Blue Family.  I’m learning how to live with only memories of Davey.

It’s not easy to do.

It doesn’t feel right.

The empty hole in my life is very evident.

But I have no other choice.

I thank God for no regrets and a ton of great memories.

Davey’s birthday is today, November 19th. He would have been 42 years-old this year. We had so much fun on his birthday every year! His 20th birthday landed on a home Cardinals game – the early years of the Cardinals. We all had a blast tailgating. Beer pong was still an approved activity then so there were lots of ping pong balls flying everywhere. Good times!

November 19th is right before Thanksgiving so it always felt like Davey’s birthday extended into the holiday. He often had an ASU vs UofA Football Watch party the day after Thanksgiving if the big rivalry game was being not being played in town. When the game was in town he was usually tailgating somewhere close to the stadium. Davey loved ASU and he loved the rivalry. He graduated from ASU along with most of our family except we have one Wildcat…..and he loved to razz her about it …constantly 🙂

Everybody would come to Davey’s football parties and we would have a great time laughing and playing all day.  Cornhole.  Washers.  Watching the game.  Drinking some Coors Light. (Davey’s favorite).   It’s hard now.  We miss him.  We miss his laugh and his joking and his big smile of delight when he was surrounded by his friends and family.

It’s been over 7 years since I’ve seen his smile in person. I have a re-occurring dream where I see Davey at a distance and I kept following him around trying to talk to him and see his smile. But I can never get close enough.

In my dream Davey looked just like he did in 2016.

My four special grand darlings are all growing taller and becoming more grown up. The rest of us are growing older with more gray hair and wrinkles and age spots.

But Davey will stay forever 34…..

Fallen, but never forgotten.

Miss you, Davey.

Love you.

Today is my son’s birthday.  David Glasser was a Phoenix police officer who was killed in the line of duty on May 18, 2016. Today he would have been 40 years-old. 

He’s not here to celebrate with us but I still celebrate because I’m thankful for every day that he was on this earth.  

The common-held idea that good people die young is very appropriate in this situation.  Davey was one of the good guys and it’s hard to live with the big hole his death has left in my life.  I am frequently reminded of the painful gap between what is and what should be.  His future was something I used to really looked forward to.  His dreams became my dreams for him as he grew and matured into a man with integrity who cared about the people in his community and city.

I will never forget, on Davey’s first day of life, there was an Air Quality Alert going on for the city of Phoenix.  As I held my newborn son in my arms, I looked out at the foggy sky through my hospital window and wondered if it was wise it was to bring a child into a world where the air we breathe is polluted.

Since then, I have found that there are far worse things than air pollution.  The evil that lives in the hearts of people who prowl our neighborhoods is what is really dangerous.  The anger and rebellion and lack of respect that defines the lives of some of the people driving down our streets is much more lethal than the air.  Lately we’ve been watching this anger and evil exploding all over our country.  Unfortunately, it will only get worse until our elected  officials and the people of our country give our law enforcement officers the respect they deserve, staff our law enforcement agencies correctly, pay our law enforcement officers well and give the officers the tools they need to do their jobs right.

Why haven’t we learned this lesson yet?

I couldn’t have known 40 years ago that my son would decide to part of the solution to the problems in our culture and in our city.  Davey loved being a Police Officer because he was trained to deal with the people who choose to do evil and unsafe behaviors.  He was able to put the good people in our city behind his gun and behind his back, away from the danger.

I’m proud of being a part of the Blue Family which stands for courage, honor and sacrifice.

Davey stood tall for all three.

Miss you, Davey.  Love you!

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 don’t 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 never 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 struggle of figuring out how to take the next steps 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 continue on, knowing there are more battles yet to come.

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

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 there are days I just don’t want to do some of these things.

I don’t want to acknowledge the fact that Davey is gone.

I don’t want to try to find the strength to move forward.

I don’t want to face the issues that I will have to face as I spend the rest of my life here on earth without Davey.

I don’t want to think about the reality that so many other Blue families and friends go through this same nightmare.  Too many.

I don’t want to visit his spot in the cemetery – I want to pretend it doesn’t exist.

I want to hear his laugh. Just one more time.

I want to see him pick up his little daughter and throw her in the air.

I want to see him playing basketball in his backyard with son and hear him coaching Micah on how to improve his shot. Just one more time.

I want to see him playing Cornhole and Washers with his sister and her husband in his big backyard every time they came to visit.

I want to see him in the car with his son picking up his dad so all the guys could go to Home Depot – they went there ALOT.

I want to see him on his riding lawn mover with his hat and his headphones on, rocking out to tunes while he cuts the grass of the lawn he loves so much. Just one more time.

I want to see him sitting on my couch with our minnie-pin puppy stretched over his chest, her head up by his so she can lay there and lick his neck.  She had a huge crush on Davey.

I want to hear him talking about which Cardinals away game he and the guys are planning to go to this year.

I want to see him wearing the crazy Cardinals hat I bought him as a joke while he tailgates before the game today.  Just one more time.  I want to see his eyes light up as a huge smile spreads across his face when he and his dad light up a cigar out on the green lawn by the Cardinals stadium.  Just one more time.

My heart yearns to go back to a time when all these things were possible….. but my brain knows that’s not going to happen.

Miss you so much, Davey.

Love you.

He was there when my son, David Glasser, a Phoenix Police Officer, went to work on May 18, 2016.

It felt like just another day.

God was there when Davey took his last call.

It seemed like just another call.

God was there when Davey stepped out of the police car and a bullet ripped off the back of his head.

This can’t possibly be happening.

He was there when responding bullets eliminated the evil that was shooting the gun.

So no one else was hurt.

He was there while Davey’s squad members protected and cared for Davey as his blood spilled out onto the pavement.

The well-trained officers responded quickly even as their hearts were breaking.

God was there when the police and firemen revived Davey’s body and took him to the hospital.

They did everything they could…. and more.

God was there, right beside me, when I received that call telling me Davey had been shot.  He was beside each of us as we received that call. It’s a call we’ll never forget.

It haunts my dreams.

He was there beside each of us as we each made our way to the hospital through a sudden, dark fog.

 It can’t be true.

God heard my terrified cries followed by urgent prayers for a miracle as the news and the night unfolded.

He heard and he cared.

He provided family, friends, our Blue family, doctors, nurses, and a chaplain to help all of us hold together as we entered hell.

It felt like a journey into hell but I know hell is worse because God is not there.

God walked the corridors with us as we cried and prayed.  The halls of the hospital were lined with people crying and praying.  Several waiting rooms were packed full of people crying and praying.

He heard and he cared.

He wrapped his arms around us as the long night dragged on and Davey’s brainwaves gradually………disappeared.

This can’t be true.

The night finally ended and the sun rose once again.

I was still alive.

The rest of us were still alive.

Together, we were going to have to figure out how to go on without Davey.

Impossible.

It’s impossible to go on without Davey.

But what felt impossible on that day, God has made possible.  He has been there through everything, loving us and giving us strength.  He has heard every prayer and He has held us each time we have cried.

And He has given us a purpose for going on.

He was there.

And He is here – making the impossible possible.

Miss you, Davey.

Love you.

One of the bright lights in my world went out on May 18, 2016.  That’s the horrible day when my son, David Glasser, a Phoenix Police Officer, was shot and killed in the line of duty.

He was a bright light in your world, too, even if you never met him.

I may confuse you with End of Watch dates.  His official date is May 19th but those of us who were with him in the hospital know that he left us on May 18th.  Feel free to use whichever date works for you.

I’m grateful for the medicine and machines that preserved his body on May 18th so that we had some time to say goodbye.  They also made it possible for Davey to fulfill his final wish – he was able to donate multiple organs improving and saving the lives of several more people even after his own death.

Because that’s what heroes do.

He was one of the good guys.  He cared about our community and he committed his life to defending all that is good and right in our world.  He was proud to be part of the thin blue line that stands between the evil ones and the innocent in our country.  He lived a life of integrity and honor while blending in fun and loving life in a unique way that only Davey could do.

His heart was big and open.  Some of you know that because he added you to his group of friends during your first conversation with him. Others of us have known about his big heart for a long time because he loved us well his entire life.

Davey leaves a legacy of love.

He loved God.  He loved his wife and two small children.  He loved his immediate and extended family. He loved his Blue Family.  He loved his friends.

He loved sports – all of them.  He was obsessed with the Cardinals and in love with the Diamondbacks as well as all ASU sports.

At Davey’s funeral, his best friend on his squad, James Byrd shared the fact that Davey said ‘Love You’ to his squad members every time he left them.  That surprised me. As his mom, I heard Davey telling us that he loved us all the time.  But I didn’t know he had extended this habit to work.

Davey not only told his squad members he loved them several times a day – he also insisted that the squad members say ‘Love you’ back to him.  AND he insisted that they say ‘Love you’ to each other before they left.

Davey knew.

He knew how close they all were to never seeing each other again.  He knew how quickly something could happen and he didn’t want anyone to ever question that he loved them.  He knew it was very important so he badgered his squad members to get into the habit as well.

Now we are all very happy that he did.

Because ‘Love you’ has lifted us up out of a place of deep, dark grief many times these last 5 years.

‘Love you’ has challenged us to grow even more genuine in our relationships.  We care more deeply and our lives have become interwoven in a solid foundation of love and support.

‘Love you’ has reminded us that we are still here – our watch hasn’t ended yet.  There is work to be done.  Relationships to be built.  People to love.

“Love you’ has helped us survive the worst.  Our Father God has used these two words and all of the things that go with them to give us more faith and more strength and more courage than we had before.

And now we continue to figure out how to continue to move forward, living out Davey’s legacy of love.

He would have wanted it that way.

Miss you, Davey

Love you.

A couple of years ago, the fence came down.

I’m talking about the fence around the Phoenix Memorial Cemetery where my son, David Glasser, a Phoenix Police Officer killed in the line of duty on May 18, 2016, is buried.

The truth is that the fence never kept anybody out anyway.  The sign on the cemetery said it opened at 8 am and closed the gates when the sun went down.

But the closed gates never kept anybody out.  I know of many night visits by groups of Davey’s friends who jumped over the fence.  There are ripped pants to prove it.  You know who you are.  After talking with other people visiting this area of the cemetery where several fallen officers are buried, I have discovered that jumping over the fence for a night visit was not an unusual occurrence. It happened all the time.

This doesn’t surprise me.  Darkness highlights the emptiness we feel.  The hole in our lives feels huge after the sun goes down.

As the night wraps around us, loneliness grows.  Sometimes we’re surrounded by people but our heart longs for that one person.  The one person who is missing.

And their spot on this earth is at the cemetery……

this is where we said our last goodbyes……

so a fence doesn’t stop us.

I love to see all the things people leave for Davey at his spot – pictures, painted stones and coins.  I visualize his friends as they give Davey a beer or a shot and then stand by his stone, having a drink with him……remembering so many fun times.

Before it came down the fence was in bad shape, so I thought the cemetery management might be planning to put up a new one.  But they haven’t.  I guess they got the news about the night visits and realized replacing the fence was a waste of money.

On those difficult, lonely nights a fence didn’t stop anybody.

Miss you, Davey

Love you.

I love all the blessings God has showered down on me. I cherish all of the great people God has brought into my life. I appreciate all the awesome things God has given me to enjoy on this earth.

It’s so easy to be happy and praise God when I focus on all of the good things in my life.

But how do I react when something bad happens? The book of Job in the Bible is a great one to study for those of us who have experienced devastating tragedy.

After Satan kills all of Job’s children, Job responds with “Naked I came from my mother’s womb, and naked I will depart. The LORD gave and the LORD has taken away: may the name of the LORD be praised.” Job 1:21 – 22.

Hard, hard truth. All of us at sometime experience ‘the LORD gave and the LORD has taken away’ part of this truth. I didn’t know how horrible this could be until my son, David Glasser, who was a Phoenix Police Officer, was killed in the line of duty on May 18, 2016. God gave me Davey for 34 1/2 precious years and then God took him away.

Totally unbelievable. A huge loss that filled my world with grief and pain. It has been a tsunami that continues to smash dreams I had and crush hopes of what my future with Davey in my life was going to look like.

I don’t like it. I don’t understand it. God and I have had many conversations about it and I have come to one conclusion.

I submit. I submit to God’s will. I submit to his purpose. I will never like it, and I probably will never understand it. So I submit.

God is perfect. He is good, all the time. He wants the best for me. He is working all things out for my good. When I filter all of my circumstances through these truths, God gives me peace and the strength to face a future here on earth without Davey.

The LORD gives and he takes away.

May the name of the LORD be praised.

May 18, 2016.

David Glasser, my son, a Phoenix Police Officer, was killed in the line of duty on that day.

And everything in my world shook.

You cannot imagine what that feels like until it happens to you.  Because it wasn’t just my life – the tsunami of his death hit everyone who was close to Davey. My two grandchildren’s world exploded.  My daughter-in-law’s world crashed. My daughter’s world flipped upside down as all of her dreams and plans with her big brother crumbled.

My husband’s world shattered into tiny pieces.  Davey was his best friend and my husband’s father had just passed away 2 weeks before Davey was killed.  Too much.

Davey’s close friend’s and squad member’s worlds spiraled in various directions as each person felt the blow of Davey’s death.

The world shook.  It twisted.  It filled with unimaginable grief.  It emptied of joy and light.

I needed something solid to hold onto while everything around me smashed and rocked.  And I found the one thing that didn’t shatter, didn’t tilt, didn’t explode.  He was right beside me and he was Rock Solid – my Father God.  Always there, always loving us, always caring for me.

God has been with us every step of the way as we have each had to pick our way through the devastation Davey’s death had on our lives.  I am completely convinced that God is good and nothing that has happened to me changes that.

As my world gradually stopped shaking, I realized I was in this new place, a new reality.  My head recognizes this place and knows I have to keep moving forward.  My heart is still regularly tugged back to a time when Davey was here, making me laugh and filling my life with his special kind of love.

The time before my whole world shook.

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.

These last 5 1/2 years have been the most difficult and painful time of my life.

One of the ways God has comforted me is through this truth – ” A person’s days are determined; you have decreed the number of his months and have set limits he cannot exceed.” Job 14:5.

God has already decided which day will be the last day of your life here on earth and mine.

Knowing this helped me let go of my mother when she passed away 16 years ago.  We had a very close relationship and she was my role-model for how a Christian woman lives her life faithful to God – all the way to her last breath here on earth.  I realized, if God wanted her in heaven with him, then that’s what I wanted for her.  She was an awesome grandmother to my children and this picture of her with Davey brings back great memories of all of my mother’s famous cinnamon rolls we ate together.  Mom had two rules about the cinnamon rolls – nobody counted how many rolls anybody ate and you had to come see her to get some. She didn’t give them to people to give to other people – she wanted to see you and spend time with you.  If there are cinnamon rolls in heaven, you can bet that these two are gobbling down a bunch of these together today.

Fifteen years ago I found myself in ICU with twelve blood clots in my lungs.  Have you ever seen a doctor look scared when they tell you are experiencing a life-threatening situation?  Laying in the emergency room, I heard God clearly tell me that I wasn’t going to die from this.  Later, five different doctors at five different times looked at me in awe and told me the blood clots should have killed me.

They obviously didn’t kill me. It just wasn’t my day.

I know that God has reasons for picking May 18 as Davey’s final day here on earth.  I may never understand those reasons but I trust God.  And, since God wants him in heaven, that’s what I want for Davey.

Knowing that this date was determined before Davey was born helps me avoid needless regrets like –

• I wish he hadn’t gone on that call.
  • It wouldn’t have mattered.  This was his day.
• I wish he hadn’t gone to work that day.
  • It would have happened no matter what he was doing.
• I wish he hadn’t been a police officer.
  • He was born to be a police officer and he died honorably, serving his community and doing what he loved to do.  He wouldn’t have wanted to live or die any other way.

It was decided.  There is no ‘wishing’ something else had happened.  God decreed the number of Davey’s days here on earth and then he took Davey home.

Now, standing on a foundation of God’s love and strength and grace, I am figuring out how to move forward.    I am still here because God has a purpose for me and that’s what my life needs to be about until the day God has already determined when he will come to bring me home.

I don’t know all the details of my future but meanwhile, through the tears, I’m focusing on loving God and loving other people.

A bigger chunk of my heart is now in heaven with you, Abba Father.