Not Just One Day

Davey made a habit of telling people he loved them and showing love to them.  He would say “love you” instead of good-bye to everyone he cared about. He was a Phoenix Police Officer who was killed in the line of duty on May 18, 2016.  And he was my son.

Davey thought telling people he loved them and showing them he loved them was so important that he tried to influence those around him to also catch the ‘love you’ habit.  He was so persistent that even his squad of tough cops at work said ‘Love you’ to each other before they left the squad room.  As a result, the last words any of us that he cared about heard from him are ‘Love You’.  These words have echoed through our minds these last 8 1/2 years as we have struggled to deal with the huge hole his death left in our lives.

So, does it surprise you that Davey didn’t like Valentine’s Day?

daveydave-tony-and-carter

He thought is was a holiday made up by the card and candy manufacturers in order to make money.  He knew that telling someone you love them and showing it was not a one day each year holiday.  It should be an every day event.  So, setting aside one day a year didn’t make sense to him.  I received Valentine cards from him during his ‘make your mom a valentine card’ years at school and church but not very many after that.

What I received from Davey was so much more valuable than a card.  He gave me consistent, genuine love and attention. Those of you who are his friends and family know what I’m talking about.

He cared about us and he showed it regularly in a thousand different ways.

Every day.

Isn’t that so much more important than remembering to show our love one day a year?

Don’t get me wrong – I like Valentine’s Day.  I think giving candy and valentines to my grand darlings is fun.  I  have received many beautiful bouquets of flowers from my husband which I really enjoy – I love flowers.   

But the challenge for all of us is to figure out how to make every day Valentine’s Day for those we love.  I’m not talking about buying stuff.  I’m talking about expressing our love in words and actions every day.

I started ‘The David Glasser #8144 Love You Campaign’ on Facebook the first Christmas after Davey died.  The purpose of the page is to show love and give encouragement to Law Enforcement Officers, their families and everyone that supports the Thin Blue Line.  The group now has more than 1600 members and is still growing.  Check it out!  Click on request to join if you’re interested.  You’ll also get all the latest news about the David Glasser Foundation.

There has never been a time when our law enforcement officers and their families need more love and support.  Let’s figure out how we can make every day a day they feel loved and encouraged – just like Valentine’s day.

Let’s accept the challenge of trying to make the people we care about feel special and loved every day.  Those of us who knew Davey remember how that feels.

Miss you, Davey.

Love you!

If you would like to know more about this story, check out my book, Then I Looked Up: Losing a Child, Finding His Legacy of Love, which is published on Amazon.

Surrounded By the Rubble

I’m standing here …..

surrounded by the rubble of my dreams.

They were my dreams for the future of my son, David Glasser, who was a Phoenix Police Officer killed in the line of duty on May 18, 2016.

There are times when the piles of my broken hopes and plans overwhelm me.  There are so many good times with him that have been snatched from my life.  So much happiness and so many smiles that will never be.

Davey would have been retiring from the Police force right about now. He planned to get his teaching certificate to teach in high school and coach high school basketball.  He would have been an awesome teacher and an even greater coach.  I witnessed some of Davey’s potential before he was killed when Micah, his son, grew old enough to start playing in various sports leagues.  Davey was always beside him during water breaks, giving him tips and encouraging him.

Unbelievable.  So much has been lost.

Davey was always the responsible oldest child.   He cared for his father and I – making sure we were doing well and getting any help we needed.   A couple of months before he was killed, my husband and I had rented an RV in Denver for a week and then drove it from Denver down to Phoenix.  Davey was not happy when he found out we had gotten back and we hadn’t let him know we were safely home.  He took his responsibilities seriously.

A couple of months before that I was driving my car with a donut (spare tire) because I had had a flat tire and couldn’t find the time to get it fixed.  He refused to let me drive my car to work on the freeway because donuts were not made to go that fast.  It’s not safe.  He insisted that we switch cars and he got my tire fixed for me while I went to work.

He was supposed to be here beside his dad and I as we move into the fall of our lives.  He was supposed to grow old with his wife.  He was supposed to coach his children’s sports teams and proudly watch them graduate from high school.  Then he was planning to happily watch them graduate from ASU (if he got his way).   We were supposed to share the joy of weddings and his grandchildren with him.

But it’s all gone.

Only the painful rubble of my dreams is left.

I’m standing here because I’m not sitting. I’m not getting stuck in the rubble.

I’m still here because God has a purpose for me.  I discovered that one of God’s plans was for me to write a book about this journey – “Then I Looked Up: Losing a Child, Finding His Legacy of Love”. It includes the parts of my story that I’ve never blogged about and I published it on Amazon almost 2 years ago. I am the president of the David Glasser Foundation and God has been doing some powerful and very interesting things with the foundation this last 6 months. It’s going to be great to see where all of this is going.

It’s obvious that I’m not done yet.  So I’ll keep moving forward, going where God leads me until he calls me to my forever home –  where there are no tears, no grief, no rubble.

Miss you Davey.

Love you.

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 ago 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, “Well, that’s not the story God is writing right now.  There is something else going on.  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 8 1/2 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.

It All Connected

I remember the moment I realized that everything in my world had changed. All of the horrible things that had happened to me in the last 12 hours connected in my brain for the first time and I knew that my life as I knew it was gone – blown up – smashed.

Nothing would ever be the same.

It was the moment when I was holding my son, David Glasser’s hand in his hospital room early in the morning after he had been shot the day before in the line of duty as a Phoenix Police Officer. The doctors had just announced their final report.

Davey was officially gone. A machine was still making his lungs breath and drugs were making his heart beat so that he could fulfill his wish of being an organ donor.

But the Davey I had loved and cherished from before he was ever born was not in this ravaged body laying in this hospital bed any longer.

I wanted to crawl in a corner and never leave. I didn’t want to know what a world without without Davey felt like. I didn’t want to face the avalanche of pain and loss that had already started to come crashing down on me and my family.

I didn’t want to.

I told God I didn’t want to.

I remember feeling a torrent of tears dripping down off of my face, soaking the front of my shirt. And I didn’t care. It was all too devastating.

Then, as Police Chaplain Bob Fesmire prayed over all of us standing around Davey’s hospital bed that morning, I felt God’s strong arms of love wrap around me. My Abba Father reminded me that, even though Davey was gone, God is always with me and he was going to walk down this very dark road right beside me, all the way to the end. He reminded me that he had always been beside me during all the tough times in my life – loving me and comforting me. He promised me that he was going to do that again.

And I knew he would. He had done it before, he would do it again.

And he has. God has been my Rock and my shelter as this hurricane of pain and loss decimated my life. He has given me strength and confidence as I have watched him start to put my life back together – piece by piece – making a much different picture than before Davey died. God has given me hope as he reminds me I have been left behind because he has a purpose for me here.

As I remember that moment in the hospital, I am thankful for how faithful God has been in my life these last almost 9 years since Davey died.

And I know he’ll be walking closely next to me the rest of this journey, until I see Davey again in our forever home.

Miss you, Davey.

Love you.

_______________

If you want to know more of this story, I published a book on Amazon, “Then I Looked Up: Losing a Child, Finding His Legacy of Love.”

A Very Long Season

I am in a very long season.

My son, David Glasser, was a Phoenix Police Officer who was killed in the line of duty on May 18, 2016.  My world turned upside down and then crumbled before it exploded.  You get the picture.  It caused an earthquake in my life that was 10.0 on the Richter scale and the after shocks just keep coming.  There has been a domino-effect in all areas of my life these last 8 1/2 years and the dominos just keep falling.

The fall-out hasn’t stopped.  And now I realize that it never will.  My life here on earth will always be missing Davey.  Every holiday, his birthday along with every person’s birthday in my family, every family and friend gathering and every anniversary will have a hole – a 6’5″ hole.

Before Davey’s death, I often would write something like “praying that God will give you peace and strength during this season of grief’ on sympathy cards to people who had lost someone they loved.  I don’t write that anymore because grief is not a season that will have an end for people like me.  Grief is now a permanent part of my life here on earth.  I will be feeling the affects of losing Davey until the day I walk into my forever home in heaven, hand in hand with Jesus.  Only then will my grieving be over.

 I am gradually getting used to the pain and loss of Davey’s death.  I’m growing used to watching my hopes and dreams for my life with Davey continue to be blown away in the cruel wind of reality.

I’m getting used to missing Davey.

But that doesn’t stop the tears as my long season of grief continues year after year.

Miss you, Davey.

Love you.

You’ll Get Through This

No, I won’t.

One of the many things people have said to me since the death of my son, David Glasser, is ‘you’ll get through this’. Davey was a Phoenix Police Officer who was killed in the line of duty on May 18, 2016.

Not long ago, I was talking with a friend who said, “It’s great that you had God walking beside you to help you get through this.” The first part of that comment is very true- God has been awesome – he is my Rock and Comforter. But the last words in that statement are not correct. I replied, “I have realized that I’m not ‘getting through’ this.”

I have figured out that we don’t ‘get through’ the death of one of our children. There is no ‘other side’ of this situation where we breathe a sigh of relief because we are ‘through’ it.

When our child dies, we never move out of it. We have to move forward but we take our broken hearts with us. We live in it. Every day.

Why is this so different from when my mother, father and all 3 of my brothers passed away?

I know what it is. I always knew that there would be a time in my life when my parents would pass away. My brothers were all older than me and, although I thought they would be here longer, I always expected that I would live a portion of my life without the rest of my family.

Not so with Davey.

Davey is supposed to be here, right now. He was supposed to be making my husband and me smile as we grow old. He should be filling our calendars with the next fun thing. Making jokes. Surrounding himself with friends and family – helping everyone have a good time.

There were times in Davey’s life where I felt like his social director. I would be organizing and helping with details in the background while Davey was the front man – gathering people together and having a great time with them. He always appreciated my help and I loved seeing him living life to the full. He was such a great person to be around.

I know you feel like this if you have lost a child – I should have gone first. That’s the right order. What happened is not the right order. And the pain of this reality does not go away. I’m not going to ‘get over’ this because the fact that he is gone from this earth when he should be here is not going to change.

The hole he left doesn’t get smaller, it actually gets bigger as he misses more Mother’s Days, Father’s days, birthdays and more Christmases.

Davey was a huge family man. He was always a part of what was going on. He flew to Maryland for his sister’s graduation with her masters degree, he flew to Pennsylvania several times to spend time with his last living grandmother and grandfather. He flew to Denver when his sister moved there to check out her new place. He kept track of his dad and I, making sure we were taken care of. If something was happening with our family, he was right in the middle of it.

All of that was lost the day a bullet took his life. Wiped away. It isn’t happening, it’s not going to happen, it will never happen again.

So, no….

I’m not going to ‘get through’ this.

Miss you, Davey.

Love you.

What Do I Really Believe?

Do I really believe God loves me unconditionally?

Do I really believe God is all-powerful and that nothing is impossible for him?

Do I really believe that God wants the best for me and is working everything out for my good?

I bet some of these same thoughts and questions have gone through your mind in the past. I bet some of these same questions must have been going through Mary’s mind as the Angel Gabriel told her she was going to give birth to a son who would be a great king and whose kingdom would never end.

Mary was a virgin.  She was unmarried.

What did she really believe?  Was she willing to accept this immense, supernatural assignment for her life with the calm assurance that God would keep all of his promises to her?

Mary’s faith was strong and sure.  “I am the Lord’s servant,” Mary answered, “May your word to me be fulfilled.”  Luke 1:38. Right answer, Mary!

Does Mary’s response to God challenge you?  It definitely challenges me.

God has given me an extremely painful road to travel following the death of my son, David Glasser, a Phoenix Police Officer who was killed in the line of duty May 18, 2016.

It’s a very dark, grief-filled road with lots of hazards.

Do I believe that God can work even this evil and horrible event out for my good?  That’s a tough question. After many conversations with God,  my answer is yes.

But the good that will come from this will be based on God’s point of view, not mine.   You can probably imagine my perspective – I want my son, Davey, to still be here on earth, living less than 2 miles from me, dropping by later with his son to pick up my husband so they can all go to Home Depot like they used to do at least once a week.

That will never happen again.

God’s perspective is focused on eternity and he is teaching me some lessons I never wanted to learn about focusing myself on eternity as well.  I am realizing that people getting the chance to hear the messages of Davey’s legacy of love is a win for God because Davey loved God and shared his faith regularly.  The opportunities I am getting to share God’s love with others because of what happened to me is a win for God.  Any chance I get to tell my story of God’s faithfulness to me and to my family through this tragedy is a win for God.  A book I published a book on Amazon with the rest of this story, “Then I Looked Up: Losing a Child, Finding His Legacy of Love”, is a win for God.

As long as God is winning – I’m good.  I’ll submit.  I’ll trust.

My soul glorifies the Lord and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior.” Luke 1: 46 – 47.

It All Shook

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.  And 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 10 days before Davey was killed.  Too much. How do we deal with this much devastating loss in such a short time?

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 me, 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.

When my world gradually stopped shaking, I realized I was in this new place, a new reality.  It’s somewhere I never, ever wanted to be. My head recognizes this place and I know I have been left behind for a purpose. 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. My husband and I just spent 10 days in the Phoenix area making new memories with Davey’s two children, having fun with old friends and making new friends. I had to stop my heart from focusing on how empty Phoenix feels without Davey. It’s hard. It hurts. People and places just kept touching the broken parts of my heart, the parts that will remain like that until I go to my forever home. So many precious memories of a different time……

my life before my whole world shook.

Miss you, Davey.

Love you.

The Most Difficult Time of the Year

David Glasser, my son, was a Phoenix Police Officer who was killed in the line of duty May 18, 2016.  My journey since then has been a uphill struggle.  And this struggle intensifies during the holidays when happy memories haunt my days.  Davey is 7 in this picture and our daughter, Katie, is 3.  They were both so excited about Christmas!  Davey had actually received the Teddy Ruxspin bear that Katie is holding from a family member for his birthday in November but his little sister loved it so much that he let her have it.  That’s who he was already at 7 years-old.

Sometimes I just wish the holidays were over.

I know many of you share my feelings.  Since I’ve had this very public and tragic loss in my life, more people have been telling me about their own heartbreaks and the losses they have experienced.  And others haven’t talked about it but I can see the private pain in your eyes when we talk about my tragedy.

We both know the struggle, we share the struggle – especially at Christmas.

So I force my attention away from my loss and focus on all the blessings God is giving me right now –  my four granddarlings are at the top of that list.  They are so precious and they distract me from thinking about who is NOT here.

One of the several life-changing lessons I have learned from this tragedy is just how short our lives can be and how quickly someone can be gone.  The painful grief I feel reminds me that I need to make the most of the time I have now with the people that are still here.  This is not the time to get stuck in yesterday.  I have new memories to make because there is no guarantee that we’ll have tomorrow together here on earth.

My heartache also reminds me that you and I shouldn’t ignore the difficult days that so many people around us are experiencing this time of year.  I read that the Christmas season has the highest rate of suicide across our nation.

That is so wrong.

So I pray for those of us who are feeling additional pain and loss during these tough weeks.  And I am trying to be extra patient and kind to people in my world this week – on the freeway, at the store, in the parking lots.  Many of them are going through hard times and I don’t want to add to the difficulties they have in their lives.

Can each of us think of a way we can reach out helping hands to others who are not enjoying ‘the most wonderful time of the year’?

And please join me in praying for a little more peace on earth during this holiday season.  We need it.

Miss you, Davey.

Love you.

It’s Happening Again

This will be my 9th Christmas without my son, David Glasser.  He was a Phoenix Police Officer killed in the line of duty on May 18, 2016.

If you have experienced loss, you have probably heard this many times – “the first year without them is the worst”. Crowds of people told me this during that first Christmas season after Davey’s death.  And, yes, it was very tough.   The Christmas season lasted forever.  It was hard to be around so many smiling people who were celebrating and having a fun time.  I was not having a fun time.  My smiles were few and far between.  I felt a huge amount of relief when that first holiday season was finally over.

So I was hoping that what people told me was true and the coming years would be better.  It surprised me when the second Christmas was even more painful than the first as the permanence of the situation started to become a reality.  The permanence of the pain has become increasingly real during the 3rd,  4th , 5th 6th, 7th and 8th years of living with the growing hole where Davey should be.

This is my 9th Christmas without Davey – and it’s happening again.  It’s my Quadruple Whammy. One punch, two punches, three punches and then – the final punch.

The first punch is Davey’s son, Micah’s, birthday in the beginning of November.  I still don’t want to believe that Davey will never be at any of Micah’s birthdays, graduations, wedding, or hold his own grandchildren.  We have lost so much.

Next comes Davey’s birthday in November – a couple of weeks after Micah’s.  It was his 43rd birthday this year – full of great memories laced with the pain.  He should have had 60 more birthdays.  We have all been robbed.

The third punch is Thanksgiving.  There are times when I struggle to say, “Happy Thanksgiving” to people.  For me, it’s compounded by the fact that my father died on Thanksgiving 46 years ago.  Last year my brother, Marlow, passed away 3 days after Thanksgiving. He was the last of my 3 older brothers and I’m the only member of my immediate family left. It’s not surprising that I ride an emotional roller coaster up and down during November.

And then the final whammy – Christmas.  So many great Christmas’ with Davey!  He was a light in my life and now it’s hard to ignore the darkness.  So I focus on how grateful I am for the birth of God’s son, Jesus, my Savior.  Jesus is the light of the world and the hope he gives me lights up the dark places in my life.

I’ll just say this right out loud for me and for people like me – I’ll be glad when New Years Eve is over and another holiday season is past.  I feel pretty beat up by the time January rolls around.

In the Law Enforcement world, people like me are called Survivors.  I’ve spent over 8 years learning just how much surviving we have to do when we lose a child.  Every year, we have to ‘survive’ the holidays and birthdays and other special days.  We never know when something is going to reach out of a perfectly normal celebration and punch us in the gut.  It comes out of nowhere and spins us into the dark hole of grief we had hoped we left behind.

You have heard this from me before and you are hearing it again because it’s still true.  I have discovered that the best way for me to survive and deal with the whammies is to focus on all the good I had in my life before Davey was killed and all the good I still have.  When I focus on all I have lost, the pain intensifies.

I have also decided to get as close to God as I can and he comforts me each time my heart breaks a little more.

Because my quadruple whammy is not going away.  It’s happening again this year.

Miss you, Davey. 

Love you.