Tag: a parent's grief

It’s a Hard Truth

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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 in my life? The book of Job in the Bible is a great one to study when devastation shakes up our world.

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 let him be taken away.

A tragedy. 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 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.

Just One More Time

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

And there are times I just 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 have to deal with as I spend the rest of my life here on earth without Davey. I don’t want to visit his spot in the cemetery – I want to pretend it doesn’t exist. 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 want to hear his laugh. Just one more time.

I want to see him hug his son and his daughter.

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 come 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 go to church and look down our row to see him sitting next to dad and me. Just one more time.

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. He really loved his lawn.

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. 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.

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Yes

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The answer is yes.

When I am asked if other law enforcement officers being killed in the line of duty brings it all back, the answer is always yes.  It brings back the horrible shock and loss of May 18, 2016 when my son, David Glasser, a Phoenix Police Officer, was killed during a burglary attempt.

Officer Zane Coolidge from the Phoenix Police Department died in the line of duty two days ago. Since Davey was a Phoenix Police Officer when he was killed, we are very connected to all law enforcement events in Arizona. Officer Coolidge’s sergeant was Davey’s best friend on his squad. When I heard that Officer Coolidge had passed away after being shot, my mind immediately went to the day Davey was shot and that horrible night in the hospital as his brain waves gradually disappeared. Tears rolled down my face and I started praying. Officer Coolidge left behind a wife and a baby as well as the rest of his family and his friends and co-workers.

Many painful memories are brought to the surface whenever this happens and my broken heart keeps reminding me of all I have lost. I’ve been in this situation long enough to know that this is how it is for a parent who has lost a child. Something triggers the painful memories and our tears flow. It could be anything – large or small – and we’re back in that horrible place where we had to face the fact for the first time that our child was gone. Our loss becomes fresh again.

I will never forget Davey’s funeral – over 5,000 people and the majority attending were law enforcement. So many young police officers with their young wives! I know many of them had young children who they left at home with grandparents or friends. Davey’s two young children, my grandchildren, were left at home with friends from his squad. So much grief. So much pain.

It’s hard for people to understand all the courage and sacrifice that goes into being a police officer. I am often asked why anyone would choose to be a police officer and I explain that it’s a calling. It takes a special kind of person to risk their lives for people they don’t even know. Officers accept the call to serve and protect because its who they are, they wouldn’t be happy doing anything else. They are part of the ‘good guys’ in our world who get evil off our streets so our families can live and grow in a safe environment. Sometimes the evil wins the battle when we lose heroes like Zane….and Davey.

I have discovered that its not good for me to focus on everything I lost when Davey was killed. It takes me to a dark place – a place Davey would not want me to stay. So I force myself to concentrate on all the blessings I have and not dwell on the empty spot in my life.

It’s not easy. Especially when I hear about another police officer death.

Miss you more today, Davey.

Love you.

Picking Up the Pieces

In the early days of this painful journey since my son, David Glasser who was a Phoenix Police Officer, was killed in the line of duty, I realized that I needed to look up….

and focus my eyes on the future. I knew I couldn’t do this alone so I had to look up to God who could give me the strength and wisdom I needed to move forward.

With tears rolling down my face, I had to pick up the pieces of my heart that were smashed and broken when Davey died on May 18, 2016 and figure out my next steps.

Because I was still living….

and there was more life happening.  There was much more ‘life’ coming my way.  And this was 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 had a life to live.  God had a purpose for why we are still breathing.

I didn’t have to look any farther than my two little fatherless grandchildren to be reminded that their whole lives were in front of them.  They had just begun.  And I wanted to be a fun and positive part of their future.

I looked at my daughter and her family and I knew that we had many great times filled with precious moments ahead.

I published a book on Amazon last year, “Then I Looked Up: Losing a Child, Finding His Legacy of Love”. It’s the story of Davey’s life, the night he died and my journey of finding hope again after losing a child. I have had many great conversations with people since then, listening to their stories and sharing what I’ve learned. It’s conversations like this that remind me that the future is a good place it be. Grief and loss are a part of all of our lives and we can help each other not feel alone as we figure out how to deal with the big hole in our lives.

In the middle of all the pain and loss and grief of this journey, I have found that moving positively into tomorrow is worth it. I haven’t left Davey behind – I have taken him and all of my cherished memories of him with me. He loved people and he was all about having fun.  He would want us to fill our days with love, making new memories.

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.

Love you

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He Knew It!

He knew it was important to say it.

And he knew how it important it was to show it.

My son, David Glasser, was a Phoenix Police Officer who was killed in the line of duty May 18, 2016.  And he knew how important the words ‘Love you’ are.

He said these words to his squad every time he walked out to take a call.  He insisted that his squad say “Love you’ back to him and to each other, too.  Davey also said these words instead of ‘good-bye’ to everyone in his life he cared about.  He knew how unsure life is and how quickly things change. He knew that these words can easily become the last thing you get to say to each other.  And he knew that our last words can either haunt you or bring a smile to your face. 

He decided to make sure that his last words always brought a smile.

Davey knew that ‘Love you’ is not just two small words. Strong emotions are attached to them which bring hope and warmth and worth when we are separated from each other.  Sometimes that separation is a couple of hours and sometimes – like my family – we are separated for the rest of our lives here on earth.

“Love you’ has brought strength and comfort to me when I needed it most.

God tells us that “Love builds up’ in 1 Corinthians and I have been a witness to how true that is these last 8 1/2 years.

Because Davey’s ‘Love you’s’ still echo in our heads, his family and friends have adopted them as our own habit.  It has become our mantra.  We don’t leave each other without hugs and ‘Love you’s”.  And this love has built us up.

It has built me up.  “Love you” rolls through my head during the dark nights when the hole in my life where Davey should be seems too much to bear.  It gives me compassion when other people share their losses and tragedies with me.

Love has made the impossible task of moving forward after Davey’s death possible. My moving forward included publishing a book on Amazon, “Then I Looked Up: Losing a Child, Finding His Legacy of Love.” This book includes the rest of the story if you’re interested.

I have found that it is hard to be angry when everyone around me is saying they love me.

It is hard to be bitter when hugs and ‘Love you’s’ are coming from all directions.

And it is hard to feel like I’m all alone when I am surrounded by love.

Love builds up.

Thank you for your legacy of love, Davey.

Miss you.

Love you.

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Struggling with Adversity

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Have you struggled with any huge issues in your life?

I have.  I am still struggling with the most extreme adversity I have ever experienced.  On May 18, 2016 my world exploded.  My son, David Glasser, was a Phoenix Police Officer who was killed in the line of duty on that day.

I have experienced quite a lot of death in my life but this is – by far – the hardest.

Davey was a unique young man who was dedicated to serving his community and dedicated to living life to its fullest with fun, going everywhere and anywhere, while collecting a vast number of friends. He did all of this with an obvious devotion and love for God and his family.  My husband and I lived 1 1/2 miles from Davey and his wife and 2 children the last 5 years of his life.  We talked with him daily and saw him almost every day for one reason or another.

I don’t have the words for how painful this last 8 1/2 years have been.  It defines adversity.  Living with the reality of my circumstances is a struggle.

As I read the book of Job in the Bible, I can relate to many of the trials Job went through.  Job experiences the shock of getting terrible news that all of his children have been killed.  I know what it feels like to have one of my children die, I can’t imagine being told they were all killed.  Then, after the first horrible news,  painful things just kept happening.  I can relate.  When people around him started saying strange and wrong things to him, I can relate.  Job questioned God and wondered why this was all happening to him.  I can relate.  He was overwhelmed with sorrow.  I can relate.

It’s a huge struggle.

Job was confident that his redeemer lived and he was confident that – in the end – his redeemer wins.  He knew that God was in total control and all-powerful.  I am also confident in my Redeemer, the Creator of the Universe.

Job committed his life to being faithful to God in spite of his circumstances.  He praised God in the middle of all of the pain he was experiencing.  He knew that is was wise to turn from evil and love God.  I can relate to all of this.

Job had a long conversation with God.  I can relate – I have had many long conversations with God about my son’s death.  Job confessed that he did not understand.  I can relate – I will never completely understand this.  Job’s eyes were opened in a new way to the reality that God has a plan and purpose for each of us and that God’s ways are not our ways.  I can relate.

God gave Job peace in the middle of his pain and blessed him.

I can relate.

Don’t Say It

Death.  Loss.  Serious illness.  Tragedy.

When it happens to someone we know, we often don’t know what to say.   We need to say something – it has to be acknowledged or it feels really wrong – the elephant in the room.  That first year after my son, David Glasser, who was a Phoenix Police Officer, was killed in the line of duty, I would sometimes see people I hadn’t seen for awhile and they didn’t mention Davey’s death.  That was very awkward because the only thing I could think about was the smashed pieces of my heart and how much I missed him.

We should think about what we’re going to say ahead of time – because we need to say something.

I know what I’m talking about.  Many people have said weird or not-helpful things while trying to be nice to me since Davey was killed.

When tragedy blew my life apart, many of the people I spoke to afterwards would say ‘So sorry for your loss.”  I used to think that this sounded unoriginal and trite but, after experiencing some of the other things people say, I realize it’s a good option.  When you say this, you are recognizing my loss and sharing an emotion.   I say it myself now.   Actually, I often just say “I’m so sorry” to someone who has just had a loss or tragedy.  They know what I’m referring to – it’s all they can think about.

There are other things people said right after Davey was killed that actually hurt.  My life was one big bruise and I felt that some of the things people said poked my bruises.  Now I have gotten used to missing Davey but that first year after his death, here are some of the things that were said to me that made a dark day worse:

“There’s always a reason.”  Really?   Am I supposed to be glad he’s gone because there’s a reason?  I should stop crying because it’s all working out so great now?

“Time heals all wounds.” Really?  All of this pain and grief is going to go away?   It’s going to turn into a scar that doesn’t hurt anymore? I know for a fact that this statement is not true when a parent loses a child. I personally think ‘heal’ is the wrong word to use with the loss of a child.  

“He’s in a better place.”  My head knows that.  My heart has been shattered into a million pieces and it aches a little bit more when you remind me that he’s not here with us, with me.

What should we say?

I’ve gotten to the point where I think “I’m sorry” is best and let the person you are talking to say whatever else they want to say.

What should we do?

The best advice I have read is in the Bible – Romans 12:15b –

“Weep with those who weep”.

Weep with us.

Weep with me.

Let your heart break for those who are heart-broken.

Hold tightly onto anyone is who is lost in pain and grief.

Give us grace when we are not gracious.

Forgive us when the anger boils over.

Be patient with us when our frustration shows.

Understand that it’s hard to focus sometimes when the emptiness is overwhelming.

Don’t ask us to let you know if there’s anything you can do – if there’s something you want to do, just do it.

Don’t tell us about a different tragedy – your’s or someone else’s.  We are struggling to deal with our own.

Don’t give us advice unless we ask for it.

You really don’t have to say much.

Just love us unconditionally, no matter how we respond.

And weep with us.

Miss you, Davey.

Love you.

 

 

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How Can This Happen to Me?

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I had never experienced anything like this before. My son, David Glasser, was a Phoenix Police Officer who was killed in the line of duty on May 18, 2016.

I had no frame of reference for the devastation that happened in my life when Davey died. My entire world turned up side down while my heart broke into a million….painful….pieces. My life became dark and I lost all joy. I didn’t smile very often and, when I did, it was a fake smile I would plaster on my face so people wouldn’t worry about me. It was a year and half after he was killed before I even realized I had stopped having fun and stopped laughing. There were no ‘good days’ in my world.

In the midst of the shock and the swirling going on in my head, I made the very good decision to look up to God and let him lead me on this extremely painful path of losing a child. He gave me strength. He gave me peace. He made sure that I knew he loved me with a perfect love….in spite of my circumstances.

There were 2 books other than the Bible that have given me significant help on my tough journey. One of the books is The Land Between by Jeff Manion. The subtitle is “Finding God in difficult transitions”. Jeff uses the story of the Israelites spending 40 years wandering in the desert and points out the many lessons God was teaching them. They were not lost – they were in an early version of Sunday School. God used this time to grow their faith and grow their knowledge of him.

This is the same for you and me. Most of us at one time or another will end up in the desert – a place where life is not what it was and where the future is very uncertain. If you have lost a child you have either been there or are there right now – The Land Between.

I totally related to this after Davey was killed. I was in a broken, bruised, bleak, painful desert. I felt lost. My old life was gone and all my dreams of the future with Davey in them were ripped away.

I found a purpose for my pain as I read “The Land Between”. I learned many very valuable truths from God during my time in the desert. God brought hope to my desert and comfort for my grief. Since then, I have watched God gradually putting the broken pieces of my life back together, creating a much different picture of my future than I had before.

I am through the desert now and very grateful for all God taught me there. Last year I published a book on Amazon, “Then I Looked Up: Losing a Child, Finding His Legacy of Love” which includes a lot more of this story if you are interested.

There is still a growing hole in my life where Davey was supposed to be but my memories of my life with him have become more precious than painful.

Miss you, Davey.

Love you!

What’s Under the Rug?

May 18, 2016 seemed just like any other day.

And then I received the call that my son, David Glasser, a Phoenix Police Officer, had been shot.  Before the night ended, he was gone.

I felt like the rug of my life was completely pulled out from under my feet.  Nothing was what it was before.  My husband and I lived a mile away from Davey and his family and Davey was my husband’s best friend so there was daily interactions and conversations.

But now Davey was gone.

And the ‘rug’ was gone.

The ‘rug’ includes all of the material and superficial stuff in my life – the things that seemed to matter so much until I was hit with this tragedy.  When something horrible like this happens, none of that means anything anymore.  It’s all very trivial.

The ‘rug’  was not going to help me survive. The ‘rug’ was not important enough to get me out of bed in the morning after Davey died.  All of that ‘stuff’ was not motivating enough to make me to look up out of my grief and try to move forward.

When the ‘rug’ is gone, it exposes what is under it.

What is really important? What’s left? What do I say and how do I act when my whole world is shaking and crumbling around me?  What kind of character have I developed?

The real question is – how solid is my foundation under the ‘rug’?  What have I  been building my life on?

If you’ve experienced a tragedy in your life, you have had no choice – you had to answer these questions.  All of the people who love someone whose name is on the National Peace Officer Memorial in Washington, DC (below) have had to answer these questions.   

I have had to answer these questions.

The good news is that my foundation held.  It didn’t crack – it never shook.

My life is built on a relationship with my Father God who was and is and will always be.  He never leaves my side.  He fills my soul with his perfect love, giving me peace and strength for each day of this very tough journey of surviving the death of a child. 

God has already won the war that is being waged here on earth.  We know how this story ends.

But I still have a purpose to complete – a piece of his plan to accomplish.  And then he will take me home – where Davey is.

The ‘rug’ disappeared but God never moved.

Miss you, Davey.

Love you.

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Choose a Path

When tragedy strikes, we are forced to choose a path.

When my son, David Glasser, a Phoenix Police Officer, was killed in the line of duty, each of us affected by it were forced to choose a path.

As the sun came up on May 19, 2016 and Davey was dead, I had a decision to make. Was I going to choose a path of bitterness?  Would I be defined as a victim of what was done to me for the rest of my life?  Would my life get stuck on this event?

Or would I choose life?  Would I figure out how to move forward?  Would I deal with the tears and the grief and the hole in my life in light of the fact that I am still here? God obviously has a purpose for keeping me here.

When tragedy strikes, we are forced to choose.  Each day we make a choice.  The good news is, if we make a wrong choice one day, we can change it the next.  We have this choice each day until that day of our final breath.

My decision was very easy when I thought of what Davey would want me to do.  He loved life.  He loved people.  He loved God.  And he lived his life full speed ahead.  He was snorkeling in Cozumel in this picture with his wife just a few months before he was killed.

There is no question about which choice would honor his legacy.  There is no doubt what he would say if I had the chance to ask.

He would say live life to its fullest.  Love people.  Love God.  Never stop growing and giving and having fun.  Live a life of no regrets.  Forgive and move on so you can avoid bitterness and a victim mentality.  Value integrity and honor.  Make your life count by caring for and helping others.

These are the choices that honor Davey and honor what he stood for.

It’s not an easy thing to do for those of us who have been left behind, but it’s what he would have wanted.

Miss you, Davey.

Love you.

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