His Last Words

I am painfully reminded almost every day how short life can be.  How quickly things change – permanently.

My son, David Glasser, was a Phoenix Police officer who was killed over 10 years ago.  He was doing his job just like he had done every day for 12 years.  But on May 18, 2016, his life ended.

The worst happened.

Those of us who were left behind will never be the same.  Our worlds blew up and the emotional fall-out continues.  Every time I visit Davey’s spot in the cemetery, I am reminded of  all the families whose heroes are buried in the same area and are on this painful journey with us. 

It’s a struggle.  Some of my steps moving forward really hurt.

If you’ve been reading this blog, you know that the last thing Davey said to everyone that he cared about was “love you”.  He even said it to his squad members and waited until they said it back.  It has been such a blessing for us to have that last ‘love you’ echoing through our heads as we deal with the grief and loss of Davey’s death.

If you have been reading this blog, you may also know that one of the things I wish Davey had done was write me a final letter I would receive if he didn’t come home one day.  It would be something I could get out to read over and over again on the dark days when I need some encouragement.  I have now written letters to everyone who is dear to me in my life and they will receive them after I’m gone. As I write this, I am reminded that I wanted to write another set 10 years after Davey left us. That’s this year- I need to get started! So many things have changed and I want to include those on this new letter.

I know Davey loved me.  He and I thought alike so we didn’t have to say a lot to communicate how we felt about each other.  Now, I would really love to have some of that written down in a letter.

So imagine my amazement awhile ago when I was searching through our small document safe that holds our important ‘stuff’ and I found an envelope with Davey’s handwriting on the outside.  In the envelope is a list written in Davey’s handwriting.  The bottom of the page says, “Sunday School 1999.”

He was 18 years-old.

He had written what he thought his life would be like “40 years from now”.  He gave a couple of options of what he wanted as a career and one of them was ‘police officer’.  He described the woman he would marry, how many kids he wanted, and his desire to continue to grow his relationship with God and be active in a church family.

It’s amazing to me that I kept this.  It’s definitely a God-thing. I’m an anti-hoarder so I’m very selective of the things I choose to keep. The number of old things I’m willing to move and store goes down as the years progress.

I shared the list Davey had written with my husband and Kristen, Davey’s wife, because this is as close to a letter as we’re going to get.

I have discovered that this list encourages me.  It reminds me of Davey and sparks great memories of how his eyes would light up when he talked about his plans and dreams. I realized that he had achieved all of the things on his list before he was killed and it felt like a fitting closure – he had done what he was sent here to do. It just wasn’t long enough for the rest of us.

Davey didn’t have 40 more years.  But reading this list makes me so grateful that we took full advantage of the 16 more years he had at the point when he wrote this.  No regrets.  We had 34 awesome years with him here on earth and that’s going to have to be enough until we see him again in heaven.

Thank you for the letter, Davey.

Miss you.

Love you!

When the Worst Happens

Do you know I have written a book? My son, David Glasser, was a Phoenix police officer when he was killed in the line of duty on May 18, 2016. I started blogging about his life, his death and my journey to find hope again about 6 months after he was killed.

Many people told me I should write a book. But I didn’t know how to write a book. God made it evident that he also wanted me to write a book when he sent me an angel who was also an freelance editor and she helped me write it. She put it on Amazon for me. Her name is Natalie. God can be very clear and direct when he wants to be.

When I sat down to write the whole story, I was surprised at how much I had never blogged about. Some of the most heart-breaking moments in that first week never came out in my blogs. There was an enormous amount of pain in going back through all the details but there was also a washing away of the fear of more bad things happening. More tough, hard things have happened since Davey’s death but God has helped me through all of them. He is my Rock. He has also taught me a process that helps me be resilient in times of heartbreak and trial. It’s in my book if you want to know about it.

When I started writing the book, I thought it would be a relatively easy process of organizing my blogs. I was so glad I had started writing down my emotions and reactions early in this journey because my feelings and thoughts gradually changed. As I read my early blogs, it was easy to see my progression of going through the steps of grief. There were some very raw emotions that I processed through.

I am extremely thankful to God for helping me feel the grief so I could work through it but not get stuck in the grief.

I had planned to call the book “When the Worst Happens” but gradually realized that it was about so much more than just the worst happening. It included my journey to find hope again after my life crumbled. I needed hope. Hope that there could be a good tomorrow again. Hope that there were still going to be smiles and good times. Hope that my family could find a way to create a positive future while taking all of our great memories of Davey with us.

So the title of the book is “Then I Looked Up: Losing a Child, Finding His Legacy of Love”. I said “then I looked up” several times in my book. Sometimes I looked up and saw my husband and my daughter and two grandchildren, Davey’s kids, and I knew that I was going to have to figure out how to rebuild my shattered life. My family was going to have to find a new, very different path in life and I needed to do whatever it took to help make that happen.

Many other times I looked up to God, asking for strength and peace in the middle of the storm of losing Davey. God stayed right beside me and he held me steady when everything around me shook. He still does that today when bad things happen and the world turns dark.

I’m including a couple of the first paragraphs of my book here.

The book starts 10 1/2 years ago –

“I was driving home from work – like I had done for over 33 years.

It was Wednesday, May 18th, 2016. I had just taken my leadership team from my office out for an early happy hour to celebrate birthdays and accomplishments. After having a glass of wine, I was starting to feel the stress of the day melt away.

Little did I know that a tsunami was forming in a part of Phoenix called Laveen and it was coming my way. The waves of destruction were growing bigger and stronger and darker as each moment passed. A deadly drama was being played out that would totally blow up my world.

It felt like a normal Wednesday to me – until my cell phone rang.”

That’s just the start of story. The book is on Amazon if you would like to read the rest.

Miss you, Davey.

Love you.

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 it is published 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.

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 10 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 you may be traveling this very difficult road of grief with me after losing a child but those of us who have accepted salvation and made Jesus the Lord of our lives have hope because we know how our journey on earth ends.

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

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 earlier 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, “God is not writing a story of him doing a miracle and Davey getting better.  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 10 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.

My Life Sentence

ave been given a life sentence.

For the rest of my time here on earth, my life will have a big hole in it.  This hole has been getting larger as each year passes since my son, David Glasser, a Phoenix Police Officer, was killed in the line of duty on May 18, 2016.  He is missing more and more important events and milestones of his family and our family.  He’s not here for first days of school and a new year of baseball.  He doesn’t get the chance to play with the new members of our family and birthday parties continue to happen without him. This list could fill 100 blogs.

My life sentence has no end on this planet.  Every hour, every day, every week, every year – he is gone.

I have awesome memories of him, great pictures and  two unbelievably precious grandchildren that remind me of him.  But he’s not here.

And he will not be here.

Usually I try not to think about the fact that, 20 years from now, he will still be gone.  I guess that’s the reality of a life sentence – it doesn’t change.  There is no hope of parole.  There is no break.

I try to focus on all of the blessings I had before Davey was killed and all of the blessings I have now.  But….sometimes… the hole is just too big.  The black hole of grief looms in front of me, making this never-ending path of loss extremely hard to navigate.

This life sentence on earth is a struggle.

So what’s my motivation for getting up in the morning?

Davey is gone but there are so many people still here.  God has shown me that he has a purpose for me here on earth.  There are still a lot of things he wants me to do.  God is very obviously walking beside me up this mountain of a life sentence, giving me strength for the climb and wisdom for the blind curves.

I have also been given the eternal life sentence of being loved and cared for by my good Father God.  This life sentence has already started and it will never end.  There is no grief or loss in my relationship with God.  Nothing can ever separate me from his love.

Davey is no longer experiencing any of these earthly struggles or pain.  He’s in a perfect place with his Father God.

And I will be there, too, someday when my purpose on earth is done.

Miss you, Davey.

Love you

Love You

Two simple little words –

that are not simple

and they have had a huge impact on my life these last 10 years.

I have learned a lot about love since Davey, my son who was a Phoenix Police Officer, was killed in the line of duty on May 18, 2016.

I’ve been on this planet for a while and I have loved others and been loved by others my entire life.  

But I never really understood the enormous power love has – until now.  Love has transformed our tragedy into a growing season.  It forced us to leave bitterness and anger behind – those emotions don’t fit when love is the focus. And it has helped us be thankful for what we had and for what we still have. Love has filled some of the huge hole created by the loss of Davey and it continues to cushion the rest so its possible to move forward.

Love is a decision, not an emotion.

Loving people who aren’t perfect and aren’t like us is not easy.

Loving people we don’t know or don’t like is usually not our first response.

‘Love you’ is a committment.  It means I always want the best for you even if that will cause me to sacrifice something on my end.

It means that I’m on your team.  I will care for you, defend you, pray for you and be here for you – always.

‘Love you’ says ‘You’re important to me’.  It says ‘ You’re valuable to me’.  It says ‘I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt when you’re wrong or grumpy or just not very lovable.’ It says “I’m going to come up with as many excuses for your behavior as I do for my own.’

Sometimes I say ‘Love you’ to people I don’t know well or don’t know at all.  This ‘Love you’ says ‘I recognize you as a good person and I want the best for you. I’m glad we’re sharing this place or this moment together. ‘ ‘

I have discovered that this over-all ‘Love you’ culture is much more powerful than it sounds.

It’s not just words.

It’s not superficial when we also act like we ‘love you’ to the people around us.  When the people around me – whether I know them or not – are important to me, the air changes around us.  The mood is different.  I can feel the acceptance and caring – not just of me but for each other.

A note to my Blue Family – loving each other and saying it regularly puts a band of steel under the Thin Blue Line.  Love adds a strength to our relationships that you will not understand until you try it.  Our family needs this strength to deal with our reality.

Love is the legacy that Davey left with us.  He knew how essential love is for all of us and he made sure we told each other – regularly – at least every time we left each other.

I’m amazed at how much ‘Love you’ has changed my world these last 10 years.

And I’m aware of how much it has changed all of us. We recently held a Cornhole Tournament as a memorial for Davey, inviting all the people who went through hell with us on May 18, 2016. The love of everyone for everybody at that event was strikingly evident. It was a unique reunion that fed all of our souls. Davey’s legacy was never more apparent that in that group of family and friends who have survived the tragedy of losing Davey. Love is and always will be the answer.

Love is an amazing gift from God that is meant to be shared. If you haven’t gotten on the ‘Love you’ train yet, this is your invitation to jump on. It will change your life if you let it.

Miss you, Davey.

Love you.

 

 

We Lost a Hero

We lost a hero 10 years ago.

My son, David Glasser, a Phoenix Police Officer was shot and killed in Laveen, Arizona on May 18, 2016 during a burglary attempt. This might confuse you because his official End of Watch is May 19th. But, if you had seen him in his hospital bed on May 18th, you would know like I do that the people-loving, respectful, funny, loyal-to-a-fault man that was Davey was already gone.

Davey had been a Phoenix Police Officer for 12 years and helping people was an integral part of who he was. He told me he liked the fact that he could take dangerous people off the streets of Phoenix, making it a safer and better place to live and raise our families.

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Davey loved his family and friends and was well-known for talking about his faith in God. He was also a sports fanatic. The Arizona Cardinals, Diamondbacks and all ASU sports were his favorites.

Davey’s love for people attracted people to him. Because of who he was, he had a lot of friends from all over the metropolitan Phoenix area.

When we lost Davey, the whole city grieved.

As his family and friends, we knew he didn’t say good-bye, he said, ‘love you’. At his funeral, his best friend on his squad, Byrd, shared that Davey had his squad of tough cops all saying ‘love you’ to each other before they left the precinct. His squad said that it felt odd at first but became very important to them after Davey was killed

As a result of Davey’s habit, the last words anybody he cared about heard him say were ‘love you’. This created a legacy of love after he was gone – changing many people’s relationships and lives. If you would like to know more about this story, check out my book on Amazon, “Then I Looked Up: Losing a Child, Finding His Legacy of Love”

Davey’s love for people and his city fueled the need for his family and friends to continue the work he started. The David Glasser Foundation was created to provide opportunities for law enforcement officers to have positive interactions with the kids and families they serve through youth sports. The foundation also sponsors a yearly Shop with a Cop event which helps kids and families in need from Laveen the city where Davey was killed. The David Glasser Foundation has been successfully completing its mission in Phoenix for over 9 years, continuing to make a difference with the people David protected and served.

Davey’s legacy of love is still growing and having a positive on people’s lives as more and more people hear his story. Today and everyday, please take the time to say ‘love you’ to everyone you care about instead of good-bye. None of us know when that will be the last thing we get to say it to that person.

I didn’t know when it was the last time I would be able to say it to Davey – now I’m so glad I said it all the time. His ‘love you’ echoes back to me in my memory and makes me smile as the tears roll down my face.

Miss you, Davey.

Love you!

It’s Really May 18th

My son, David Glasser’s, official End of Watch is May 19, 2016. But the real date he left this earth is May 18.

You would know that as well if you had seen him. His body was hooked up to all kinds of machines that were keeping his lungs moving and his heart beating.

But Davey – the fun, smart, wonderful son, husband, dad, brother and friend  – was already gone. He was already with his Father God.

It’s been 10 years since Davey was killed and I’m still very thankful for all of the support we received that night and ever since then.

I am thankful to modern medicine which gave us time the night he was shot to start coming to terms to our new reality.  We had several hours to figure out how to start to say good-bye.  It helped.

I am thankful that the machines were able to keep his organs alive so that he could give the gift of life to so many other people.  Our families have been blessed by other organ donors so we know what an important thing this is.  Knowing that helped.

I am thankful for the doctors and nurses who treated Davey with care and respect.  They also were very helpful and understanding to those of us who spent the darkest hours of that night in a room next to Davey in unbelief of what was happening.  It helped.

I am thankful for the rooms full of police officers and friends at the hospital who prayed for us and supported us through those awful hours.  It helped.

I am thankful for the family and friends all over the country who prayed for us through that night.   I am thankful for all of the people who didn’t even know us and they prayed for us.  I am grateful to all the people who still pray for us. It has helped.

daves-squad
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I am thankful for Dave’s squad who, disregarding their own pain, had the worst job of making telephone calls and getting us to the hospital.   I am also  thankful for the Employee Assistance Unit led by Sgt. Dave Osborne.   Both of these teams promised support and they meant it.   It really helped.

I am thankful for the entire Phoenix Police Department who supported us that night any way they possibly could.   They parked our cars so we could run right into the hospital, they brought food, they picked up family at the airport, they took care of the press, they drove us home, they never left their watch on Dave’s room and much more.  They continue to support us and they go out of their way to help the David Glasser Foundation every December with out Shop with a Cop event. It has all helped.

I am thankful for Pastor Mark Grochoki from the church we were attending then, Palm Valley, who somehow found a way through the crowds and lines of police in the hospital that night to pray for us in a small, dark corner of the hospital lobby.  It was an oasis of peace in a very long, terrible night.  It helped.

I am thankful for the Police Chaplain, Bob Fesmire, who is so clearly called by God to walk families like ours through the most painful hours of our lives. Your words of wisdom cut through the shock and helped us move forward.  You prayed for us through the night when we had no words.  I will never forget your prayer as we said our last goodbyes before leaving the hospital.  I don’t recall the exact words of your prayer but I remember God reaching out through them to wrap his arms around me to comfort me.  You were Jesus with skin on that night, my brother.  You really helped.

I am thankful for the Concerns of Police Survivors (COPS) organization which continues to support us and care for us. I appreciate all the memorials where it is very clear that Davey’s service and sacrifice will never be forgotten. I am thankful for the large number of people who faithfully support the David Glasser Foundation and it’s efforts to continue Davey’s legacy of loving people in his city.

May 18th, 2016 was Davey’s last day on this planet.  That was the day he went to his forever home. Now he lives in our hearts and our memories until we see him again in heaven.

I’m not saying that we need to change the date on all the plaques and forms.

I just wanted you to know……..

Miss you, Davey.

Love you.

It Leaves a Mark

There is a cost.

There is a commitment.

Love leaves a mark.

The cost is being more concerned about another person than you are about yourself.  What I want is not the most important thing when I love someone. It means taking our eyes off of ourselves long enough to see someone else that needs a hug or a hand. The cost of loving others is giving up some of our ‘separateness’ and deciding to actually care for people around us.  We have to let others love us, knowing that this love will leave a mark.  It will change us.

Commitment means loving this person even when they are unlovable.  Sometimes it means offering help and other times it means supporting them as they figure it out for themselves. When we commit to love one another, it means we don’t give up even when its tough or uncomfortable. It means loving people who think differently than we do. Unfortunately in our current culture, people have started turning away from anyone who doesn’t agree with them. The ‘hate’ word comes up far too often. We have always had many different perspectives between generations – that’s nothing new. What’s new is the lack of commitment to love people in spite of the differences. We need to get good at agreeing to disagree because we love this person and that is more important than our conflict of opinions. It means setting love as a priority and letting other things that we always used to think were important slide down the list.

Loving someone well takes a lot of energy and patience, wisdom and understanding.  Loving people well is a lot of work.  And it leaves a mark.

I have discovered that this mark doesn’t go away after someone we love dies.  This mark is permanent and never leaves us.

David Glasser, my son, was a Phoenix Police Officer who was killed in the line of duty on May 19, 2016.  The mark he left was an unusual kind of love.  It was an outspoken love – a love that broke some boundaries that we can set up as adults.  He said ‘love you’ often and you knew he meant it by how he included you and had fun with you and was loyal to you.  You knew there was a commitment being made when he said ‘love you”, it wasn’t just something he said.

The mark he left on us is big.   We have discovered how big it is this last 10 years since he was killed as those of us with his mark have loved each other more and we have loved each other better. More hugs. More caring. 

If I were to draw a picture of the mark Davey has left on us, it would not be a heart.  It would be a magic wand.  Because genuine love has magical qualities that cannot be explained. It comes from God with a power none of us truly understands. But we can see it’s effect on us.

Love changes things.  Love brings light into the darkness.  Love soothes pain and sadness and loneliness. Love fills our world with purpose. It gives meaning to the difficult things in life and hope for a better tomorrow. What I have learned about love this last 10 years has renewed my thinking. My heart has grown. Davey’s mark on my life has transformed my world. It can transform your’s, too.

When you choose to love.

Miss you, Davey. Love you.