When There’s No Tomorrow

The pain is burned into my memory. The grief is deeply etched into my soul.

That day – the day my son, David Glasser who was a Phoenix Police Officer, was killed in the line of duty.  May 18, 2016.

It’s the day when my life as I knew it exploded.  All my expectations for the future had Davey in them so it was all ripped away, leaving a huge, hurting hole in my life.  After almost eight years, I know that nothing will ever fill that hole.

I totally understand why people like me get stuck in a pit of despair.  I’ve been there.  I was violently pushed into a deep, dark place of grief by Davey’s death …. and I wanted to stay there.  Clutching his smile, his jokes, his integrity, and his love for others close to my heart, I didn’t want to move.  The dark felt good and right – my shattered heart felt right at home.

But my head knew that – somehow – I was going to need to crawl out of that pit.  I knew I could not let myself get stuck there.

With God’s help, I moved toward the light.  One step at a time.  Some days my steps went backwards but I was moving.  I made myself look up instead of back and, when I looked up, I saw my two little grand darlings – Davey’s children – who needed me.  I saw my daughter and husband who needed me.  I saw other family members and friends who needed me.  There is a reason I was still here and it was not to stay in that dark, terrible, but somehow comforting pit.

Looking back I realize that lying under the need to stay in the pit was a numbing fear that, if I moved forward, I would leave Davey behind.  That hasn’t happened.  All of my love and memories of him have moved forward with me.  He was and is and always will be a part of me. 

He’s not here but he’s not gone.

For Davey, there are no more tomorrows here on earth but those of us left behind have important tomorrows where we need to be engaged and loving and find hope again.  It’s the hope that only faith in God can give.

So the challenge for me and for you is to love others around us like there is no tomorrow because, someday, there won’t be.

Miss you, Davey.

Love you.

When. Not If.

The question is not ‘if’ something bad is going to happen to us.  The right question is ‘when’.  Because something bad is going to happen sometime in our future.

Failure, separation, broken relationships.

Disease, accidents, illness, pain, death.

It’s going to happen.  And most of the time it will happen when we least expect it.

A very close friend of mine received a huge shock several years ago when her beautiful daughter-in-law didn’t wake up one morning.  33 years-old.  And she didn’t wake up.

She was fine the day before.

She leaves behind a husband, a young son, and a large number of family and friends who never expected something like this to happen.

Many times there is no warning.  I was on my normal commute home from work when I got the call that my son, David Glasser, who was a Phoenix Police Officer, had been shot in the line of duty.  He died that day. My world crumbled into painful ashes on that day.

It’s not ‘if’, the question is ‘when’.

So do we live our lives with a cloud of worry and fear over our heads just waiting for the next ax to fall?  Or do we ignore the inevitable and deal with it when it happens?

Neither of those sound like a good option to me.  The tragedy that blew my life apart is not going to cause me to spend the rest of my life focused on dreading the next bad thing.  But I’m also not going to pretend that there are no more hard times coming.

I have chosen to try to find a balance somewhere in the middle of those two extremes.  I am working on growing my faith – getting closer to God.  God has been my anchor through this storm of grief and loss these last 7 1/2 years.   I am also trying to grow my resilience in the face of adversity – defining and strengthening the process I use when bad things happen.  Because they are going to happen.

I tend to lean more in the positive direction than the negative – life is more good than bad.  I like to focus on good things – they make the struggle all worth it.

And I have learned a lot about love since Davey was killed.  When we show love to those around us – even when we don’t know them – it really does matter.  Each expression of love, every hand that reaches out, any show of kindness and love – it all matters.  Davey taking time out of his schedule packed with family and career to fly across the country to celebrate his step-grandfather’s 90th birthday and putting his arm around Merle for a picture matters – especially when 90 was the last birthday his step-grandfather celebrated.

It’s all worth the effort.  When we love each other, we’re on the right track.

Because it’s not a question of ‘if’ something bad is going to happen to us.  The right question is ‘when’.

Loving each other helps when the worst happens.

Miss you, Davey.

Love you.

No Regrets

It’s a good feeling.

No regrets.

My son, David Glasser, was a Phoenix Police Officer who went to work on May 18, 2016 and he never came home.  He was killed in an attempted robbery.

We have a lot of tears. A huge amount of lost dreams. A big hole in our lives.

But no regrets.

Davey lived life to its fullest and, as a result, those of us around him were also caught up in his whirlwind of a good time.  He was always planning the next poker party, the next BBQ, the next Fantasy draft and the next trip.  We knew we could count on him to provide the spark – something fun was on its way.

We all got used to saying ‘yes’ to whatever he was planning because we couldn’t say no – then we’d miss the fun!  We also got used to helping him do whatever he wanted to do because it was going to be good.

Now we are so thankful for all those great memories.  And we have a ton of them!  Our calendar was full of good times with Davey – we have no regrets about things we should have, could have, or would have done.   None of us knew how short our time was going to be with him.

None of us ever know.

Early on as a family, we learned to keep short accounts.  If something major was going on, we talked about it.  If something wasn’t a big deal, we forgot about it.  Let it go. That way we weren’t hanging on to anger and hurt feelings.

There’s a reason why God tells us not to let the sun go down on our anger.  Because – sometimes – the sun goes down and the person we’re angry with never comes home again.

Accidents.

Heart attacks.

Aneurysms.

Blood Clots.

Getting shot.

For whatever reason, the person you are mad at doesn’t come home…

and you are left with regrets.

That doesn’t have to happen.  If you are living with regrets about the past, you can change that for the future.   Have short accounts – choose your battles and take care of the issue – forget the rest.  After the emotion passes, talk about it – don’t stop talking to people.  Start putting dates on the calendar for the things that are on your ‘some day I want to’ list.  By the time you get old, your bucket list should be very short because you have gone, you have done it, you have seen it. 

Say ‘love you’ instead of ‘good-bye’ to everyone around you.

Davey knew that some situations he got into as a Police Officer brought him dangerously close to never coming home again.  It was very important to him that the people he cared about knew that he loved them.  So the last thing he always said to us was ‘Love you’.

The very last thing he said to all of us was ‘Love you’.

And we said ‘love you’ back to him.

No regrets.

Just awesome memories of a very special person who we miss each day.

Love you, Davey.

One of the Most Difficult Things

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 planned to retire from the Police force and get his teaching certificate.  He wanted 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 his potential 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. I planned to be sitting in the stands watching it all with a big smile on my face.

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 Davey 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. He was always watching out for us.

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.  Davey 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 did things like this for me all the time.

Davey 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. When Davey was killed, I lost all of his future…… and I lost mine. Even when he wasn’t involved in something in my life, I would talk to him about it, ask his opinion and send him pictures because I knew he would be interested. Not any more.

One of the most difficult things people like me who have lost a child have to do is rebuild a positive future. We don’t always want to, but we have to for the sake of those we love who are still here. And because the child we lost would want us to.

I’m standing in the rubble because I’m not sitting. I’m not getting stuck in it. I haven’t gone to heaven yet 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 was published last year on Amazon.

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

Miss you Davey.

Love you.

It’s Invisible…

but it’s there.

It’s a cloud of grief with my son, David Glasser’s name on it.  He was a Phoenix Police Officer who was killed in the line of duty on May 18, 2016.   This cloud has hung over my life since that day.  You don’t see it or feel it.

But I do.

I have moments of silent grief when anyone I know shares that they talked to their son or went somewhere with their son.   That used to be my husband and I.  We lived 1 1/2 miles away from Davey and his family the last 5 years of his life.  We talked to him almost every day and saw him almost as much.  We were included in all of his plans for fun which were many and often.

Oh, how we miss those fun times with Davey!

I am a member of a couple of Facebook pages that remember and honor officers that have been killed on that day. EVERY DAY, several names. These posts give me moments of silent grief for the family, friends and coworkers who are now experiencing the same nightmare we did over 7 years ago. It brings back the memories of the shock and disbelief of those first few weeks….and months…..and years. So I pray for them because God has been my Rock since this bomb with all it’s repercussions hit my life.

God is the only thing that didn’t shake in my life when Davey was killed.

I have moments of silent grief when anything negative about Police Officers comes onto the television.  Any disrespect or dishonor exhibited for Police Officers is very personal to me.  It feels like disrespect and dishonor for Davey’s bravery and commitment in serving and protecting his community.

Davey gave his life for the people in his city.

Even doing something simple that Davey used to do brings on the cloud. Making beer brats reminds me of watching Davey cooking up some food for friends that were coming over. He always had a big smile on his face when people were on their way to his house – he knew a fun time was on its way.

Davey loved people so he found lots of reasons to invite people to his house to have a good time.

There are many moments of silent grief when I watch Davey’s son and daughter playing sports.  His son, Micah, wears Davey’s number on his jersey whenever he can get it. Davey would have been right in the middle of it all, coaching them and showing them how proud he was of them.

He was such a great dad!

I have moments of silent grief whenever I see someone receiving a folded flag.  We have a folded flag in our house and we know all about the pain and loss that comes with it.

I have moments silent grief whenever I’m around Davey’s friends and squad members.  It’s great to be together and the love and support we have for one another makes a difference … but the hole he left in our lives is so big.

People have asked me if memorials like Police week are hard and I always say they are bittersweet. It’s feels right and good for us to remember and honor our fallen heroes but these memorials definitely shine a spotlight on the person who is missing in my life.

What’s really hard is living every day without Davey. That’s the worst.

If you have experienced a tragedy like mine, you understand.  If you haven’t, I hope you never know what this cloud of grief feels like.

Miss you, Davey.

Love you.

You Remind Me of……

I have a lot of great memories of Davey.

My son, David Glasser, was a Phoenix Police Officer who was killed in the line of duty on May 18, 2016.  He lived his life large and full-out – creating a lot of great memories along the way.

He is no longer here….but those good times have not gone away.  They still live in the hearts and minds of everyone who loved him.

I am often reminded of Davey as I go through my days.  When my husband starts talking about sports with Micah, Davey’s son, my mind flashes back to memories of my husband and Davey talking sports – many unending conversations about all kinds of sports.  Davey knew all kinds of stats and kept up on trades and names and all the latest.  When Micah was just 7 years-old, I was watching a Diamondbacks game with him when a player hit a homerun.  Micah immediately said, “That’s his 20th homerun this year.”  Right after he said this, the announcer on the TV said, “That’s his 20th homerun this year.”

You remind me of…..

My grandson looks a lot like Davey – tall and lean – so I often think I see a young Davey out of the corner of my eye when it’s really Micah.  He also acts like Davey – making fun of everyday things and always ready to dance a little or sing a little if it’s going to add some fun into his life.  I am visiting Phoenix this week and 13 year-old Micah is acting more and more like Davey – the same facial expressions and that same look of innocence when I ask him to stop bugging his sister.

You remind me of…..

We travelled as a family to a lot of different places as Davey grew up and got into the habit of always looking for a baseball, basketball or football game to go to in the city we were visiting.  Davey continued to travel as an adult and there was usually ‘a game’ involved – where ever he went.  We visited our daughter, Katie, in Denver just a month after Davey was killed and one of her first questions to my husband was, “Do you want to go to a Rockies game?”

You remind me of …

A woman in my Thursday morning Bible study group shared that she had bought a Bible suited for her grandson so he could start reading the Bible stories and understand the truths included in them.  My mind instantly wandered to all the hours my husband and I spent reading the Bible stories to our children before they went to bed every night.  I’ve had several people tell me they were amazed by Davey as a kid at church camp, Sunday school and Vacation Bible school – he knew the answer to every question.

You remind me of…..

My husband and I regularly get together with various members of Davey’s squad family when we visit Phoenix.  As his squad members talk about their jobs and what they are doing now, I am once again impressed by the dedication and the commitment it takes to do what they do. Their courage and perseverance in making Phoenix a better place to live helps me remember how proud I am that Davey was and still is a part of what is right and good and honorable in my world.

You remind me of….

These awesome memories swirl through my mind, creating smiles as tears run down my face.

Miss you, Davey.

Love you.

Left Behind

It’s hard.

Very tough.

When someone you love dies, the emotions are strong, the grief is heavy and the loss is extremely painful.  After losing my son, my mom and dad, all 3 of my older brothers, along with all of my grandparents and all of my aunts and uncles as well as some friends, I feel like I’ve experienced a lot of death.

Each one is different.  Each relationship is different. 

My son, David Glasser, was a Phoenix Police Officer who was killed in the line of duty over 7 years ago. His death has been the most difficult for me – by far.  I think one of the things that makes this loss so huge is how young he was – he was only 34 years-old.  We lost so much of his life.  I can’t imagine any death being more difficult that his.

Davey loved God, he loved his family and friends and he loved the city he served and protected. He lived life to its fullest, sharing his faith regularly and he left a legacy of love to those of us who have been left behind.

So I’m very interested when God starts talking about why the righteous die in Isaiah 57:

“No one understands that the righteous are taken away to be spared from evil.” verse 1.

I believe that everything God says is true.  He knows the future and sometimes he chooses to spare his children from bad and evil things that would happen to them if they stayed on earth.  I believe that Davey completed his purpose on earth so God took him home.  No more evil will be done to him.

God sees our death on earth as a reward because, as believers, we get to go home to be with him. “Those who walk uprightly enter into peace; they find rest as they lie in death.” vs 2.

Their bodies remain here on earth but their souls are free and filled with joy as they walk hand-in-hand with Jesus into heaven.

Those of us here on earth who have put our faith in Jesus will experience this joy as well someday. Today we may be travelling down a very difficult road but we have hope because we know how our journey on earth ends.

Please comfort those of us who have been left behind, Abba Father.

Celebrating the 1 Year Anniversary of Publishing my Book

Thank you for all of the great reviews on Amazon of my book, “Then I Looked Up: Losing a Child, Finding His Legacy of Love”.

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Don’t Get Stuck

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The experts tell us we all go through 5 stages of grief – often in different orders and we can go back and forth from different stages depending on our circumstances and emotions. Its healthy to experience all the stages, dealing with our feelings and working on our responses to the loss we have experienced. It’s also the key – to go through them. Not to get stuck in one of them.

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

I published a book on Amazon last year, “Then I Looked Up: Losing a Child, Finding His Legacy of Love”. I tell the story of Davey’s life and death and my journey to find hope after losing a child. I found hope. I also found that Davey’s ‘Love You’ has been a major factor in helping me positively deal with his death.

Being a part of the David Glasser Foundation has been another thing that has helped me move forward.  Honoring Davey’s legacy by doing positive things in his name helps the future look brighter.  Sponsoring sports teams and seeing his name on their jerseys brings a lot of joy to me because Davey played basketball and baseball and loved all sports. Seeing his name every year on an awesome Shop with a Cop event feels right and something he would be proud of.

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

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

And it’s worth it.

Miss you, Davey.

Love you

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 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 all the ‘missing you’ times 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 with his son and hear him coaching Micah on how to improve his shot.  I want to see his eyes light up as a huge smile spreads across his face when he he watches his kids play with their dogs in the back yard. 

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 and his buddies talking about going to a Cardinals away game again next year. I want to see him wearing the crazy Cardinals hat I bought him as a joke.

Just one more time. 

I want to see him look over at me with a big smile and say, “Love you, Mom.”

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.