Tag: family

The Bomb

A bomb exploded in my life on May 18, 2016.

My plans were made.  I was on a course for my life that had my son’s smile and laughter plastered all over it. And then the bomb went off – sending my life onto a whole new trajectory.  My son, David Glasser, was a Phoenix Police Officer who was killed in the line of duty on May 18, 2016.

That day my life was thrown onto a path I never wanted to be on.  None of my former plans fit the journey I am on now.

I know I’m not alone.  There is a large group of us who were loving life with Davey when the bomb went off.  And now we find ourselves in this other world…..which is not as much fun….and has an obvious empty space,

Don’t tell me time heals all wounds.  This mother’s heart is broken and its not healing this side of heaven.

But….

here I am……

  • Putting Davey’s memorial bracelet on my wrist every morning – missing him, surprised that it’s been almost 9 years since he was killed.  It feels like yesterday.  Except so much has changed. 
    • Everything has changed.
  • Blue has become my favorite color because it reminds me of Davey’s commitment to be a great police officer.  Many of my house decorations are now blue, my toenails are often blue and I’ve changed my Christmas decorations to mainly blue. People can recognize which house I live in because of all the blue lights.
  • I’ve been retired for over 8 years and my retirement is drastically different than what I thought it was going to be like before Davey was killed.  I have been forced into a life without my son. A life I would have never chosen.

About 6 months after Davey was killed, I was shopping and saw a small plate with ‘Embrace the Journey’ written on it.  I stood in that store in front of this plate for a long time.

Thinking……..

About the tragedy that had smashed my life and the lives of so many people I love. Thinking about the pain and the grief and the tears.

When Davey was killed, I’m glad I didn’t know all the details about the awful road we were going to have to travel.  Many parts of it have been dark and foggy and straight uphill … but we have traveled it together.

The last words Davey said to all of us were “Love you”. I now understand how much love has drastically changed this journey for me.

I have learned a lot about loving other people in these last 9 years.  I have learned a lot about what’s really important – and what’s not.  My heart has grown bigger as I reached out in love to the people I don’t even know because every little bit of love and care matters. It changes things. We all deal with tough issues at different times of our lives. Those of us who have lost a child have to live with missing our child every day of our lives here on this planet.

It is a difficult journey. 

I am so glad that, standing in the store in the store that day so many years ago, I decided to ‘Embrace the Journey’.  God has a purpose for my pain.  He has walked closely beside me so far and I know he will give me strength and peace the rest of the way.

Of course I bought the dish.  At the end of each day, I place my wedding ring next to Davey’s memorial bracelet on it – the only 2 pieces of jewelry I usually wear. My wedding ring changed after Davey was killed, too.  I added blue sapphires to it. 

Fallen but never forgotten.

Looking back, some days have been harder than others depending on the roller coaster of emotions the events of the day contained.  Sweet memories.  Sad losses.  Two years ago I published a book on Amazon, “Then I Looked Up: Losing a Child, Finding His Legacy of Love”. Its the story of Davey’s life, his death and my journey of finding hope and purpose after losing a child. Publishing this book has caused me to have many great conversations with people about their own journey of grief. My main response to these conversations has been an overwhelming feeling of gratitude for 34 years with Davey. 

Each day, as I look at this small plate on my bathroom counter, I am reminded of my commitment to Embrace this Journey.

One day at a time.

Miss you, Davey.

Love you.

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The Most Difficult Time of the Year

Each day, as we get closer to Christmas, the hole in my heart grows a little bigger…and a little darker.  The pain becomes a little stronger.

It becomes increasingly harder not to focus on what I have lost.  What my family has lost.

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.

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Irreplaceable

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I thought it was irreplaceable.

About 4 years ago, my wedding ring had a loose stone so a major jewelry store sent it in to be fixed.

And my ring disappeared.

Somewhere between the jewelry store and the shop that fixes jewelry, my ring along with a whole box of other people’s jewelry was stolen.  Gone!

For almost 40 years at that time, my husband I had an ‘every 5 years’ anniversary tradition of changing or adding something to my ring. This made my ring very unique with a lot of sentimental memories attached to it. Eight years ago we added blue sapphires to my ring after our son, David Glasser, who was a Phoenix Police Officer, was killed in the line of duty. It’s the only piece of jewelry I usually wear other than Davey’s memorial bracelet.

This ring was precious to me so I never took it off except at night and then it always went the same place.  I didn’t want to lose it.

Now the jewelry store lost it.  Unbelievable!

Of course I cried.  So much has been lost and now I’m adding my wedding ring to that list.  The jewelry store tried to do their best to replace it with something comparable and they did a good job.  But my original ring was irreplaceable.

Well, on second thought, my perspective these last 8 years since Davey was killed has definitely changed. There is a new standard in my mind that I measure  everything here on earth by to determine whether it’s irreplaceable.  And my ring actually isn’t even on that list.

Because, at the top of the irreplaceable list is my son, Davey.  In an instant, he was gone.  He went to work on May 18, 2016 and never came back.  And he is truly irreplaceable.  He defines irreplaceable.  He was such a huge personality and so special.  Nothing and no one can fill the hole he left on this earth.

When I think about it, it’s people in my life who are irreplaceable.  None of the ‘stuff’ in life means much when it’s stacked up against the people that mean the most to me.

Those of you who follow my blog know that last year my ring disappeared again. I couldn’t find it anywhere. I only take it off at night and I always put it in the same place…..but, one day, it wasn’t there in the morning. To say that I looked for it everywhere is an understatement. I’m glad I had already figured out what it was not irreplaceable but losing it still stung. I had three older brothers and the last one passed away around the same time that I lost my ring. More loss. It was piling up.

So I prayed. I knew God knew exactly where my ring was and I asked him to bring it back to me. Every time it bothered me, I prayed. And 4 months later, it showed up in a place where I had looked many times. Thank you, God.

I lost Davey, too, but I know where he is and God is going to give him back to me someday when I get to my forever home.

One of the things that is important to me about my relationship with God is that he has promised nothing could make him stop loving me.  Nothing.  Ever.  I don’t have to be concerned about ever losing my relationship with him.  My life is built on the Solid Rock.  I might lose everything else here on earth, but not God.

Having this new standard of irreplaceable has helped me focus on the most precious things in my life – my relationship with God and with the people who have been left behind on this planet with me. It has helped me put ‘stuff’ and possessions in the right place on my list of what is important – at the bottom.  It has helped me be okay with losing my original ring.  It was just a thing.  It is replaceable.

Because I now clearly understand what is truly irreplaceable.

Miss you, Davey.

Love you.

Forever 34

It’s been it’s a struggle to move forward from May 18, 2016.  That’s the day my world blew up.  It’s a day that is etched into my mind by grief and pain – the day my son, David Glasser, who was a Phoenix Police Officer, was killed in the line of duty.

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

It’s not easy. It doesn’t feel right. The empty hole in my life is very evident.

But I have no other choice.

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

Davey’s birthday is today, November 19th.  He would have been 43 years-old.  We had so much fun on his birthday every year!  His 20th birthday landed on a home Cardinals game – the early years of the Cardinals.  We all had a blast tailgating.  Beer pong was still an approved activity then so there were lots of ping pong balls flying everywhere.  Good times!

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

Everybody would come to Davey’s football parties and we would have a great time laughing and playing all day.  Cornhole.  Washers.  Watching the game.  Drinking some Coors Light.  

davey-square

 It’s hard now.  We miss him.  We miss his laugh and his joking and his big smile of delight when he was surrounded by his friends and family.

It’s been over 8 years since I’ve seen his smile in person. I have a re-occurring dream where I see Davey at a distance and I keep following him around trying to talk to him – trying to get him to smile at me. But I can never get close enough. Davey was shot in the back of his head and he has a big patch on his head in my dream. The first time I saw it (in my dream) I couldn’t figure out what it was. Then I realized that was where he was shot. Isn’t it crazy that my subconscious would add that to my dream?

Except for the patch, in my dream Davey looks just like he did in 2016. He looks just like this picture that was taken 2 months before he was killed.

My four special grand darlings are all growing taller and are physically changing a lot as they grown up. The rest of us are growing older with more gray hair and wrinkles and age spots.

But Davey will stay forever 34…..

Miss you, Davey.

Love you.

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Nobody Knows

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Nobody knows what it’s like to be a parent who has lost a child unless its another parent who has lost a child.

My husband and I attended the COPS Parent Retreat last weekend. There were 189 parents there and all of them had lost a law enforcement son or daughter in the line of duty. All of these parents know the ongoing grief that happens when we lose a child. They have experienced the nightmare of that call and they have endured the initial shock of finding out their child was gone. I found tears rolling down my face several times during the weekend when I would see the large dining room or auditorium filled with parents who are going through the continuing pain of missing their child like I am.

When we looked into each other’s eyes while talking about our children, there was an instant ‘knowing’. There was an automatic understanding that just isn’t there when we’re talking to anyone else. This ‘instant relationship’ filled the parents retreat with love and compassion for one another. It was a safe place to cry and express our grief. It was also a safe place to have some fun and great food.

The local law enforcement agencies really showed up with helping us move into our rooms, then moving back out and providing an awesome BBQ dinner for us. They treated us like they would want their parents to be treated if anything ever happened to them.

Those of us who have been left behind are called ‘Survivors’. None of us had any idea how much ‘surviving’ was going to need to happen on this tough road of losing our child. We have to survive their birthdays, Mother’s Day, Father’s Day, and Christmas without them. Every year. We have to survive family gatherings where they are noticeably missing. Every year. Some of us have to survive the birthdays of our grandchildren – the children of our child who should be here, but they’re not. This happens every year.

In my case, my son, David Glasser, was a Phoenix Police Officer who was killed in the line of duty on May 19, 2016. He was our only son. So whenever other people talk about their sons, all I have are great memories and a hole. This hole is getting bigger every year as he misses more and more.

I was glad to hear how often our faith in God showed up in our conversations. God was the only thing that didn’t shake in my life when Davey was killed. He has been my Rock and I discovered that he was a Rock to many of the parents I talked with. He has been lovingly faithful to all of us through our tragedies.

Another topic that came up in our discussions are the Law Enforcement memorials that we attend. Every year. They are bittersweet. We are very happy that our son or daughter is being remembered and honored at these memorials. It feels good to know that their sacrifice is not forgotten.

The bitter part comes when these memorials bring back to the forefront all that we have lost. They remind us of all the plans and dreams we had for our child and how our child had a starring role in many of our own plans and dreams. All of that has exploded and disappeared. It’s all gone. The moan of the bagpipes which are often centerstage at a Law Enforcement Memorial are a painful reminder of how long and how hard this journey of surviving the death of our child is.

Added to our loss is the fact that our child had been serving their community when they were killed. They were helping to put the evil in our communities behind bars and they were working tirelessly to help make our neighborhoods a safe place for us and our families to live. They were part of the ‘good guys’ in this world and now they are gone.

We have all lost so much.

No one knows that better than the parents of a fallen Law Enforcement Officer.

Miss you, Davey.

Love you.

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.

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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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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Listening to the “Love You’s”

We remember.  And, if we listen closely, we can hear his voice as ‘love you’s’ echo through our heads.

Over 8 years ago, we lost a hero.  My son, David Glasser, was a  Phoenix Police Officer who was killed in the line of duty.  We remember and honor his commitment to the safety of those of us who live in Phoenix.  We remember and honor his willingness to put himself at great risk in order to save others.

Davey was a Phoenix native who graduated from Moon Valley High School before getting a Bachelor’s Degree in Criminology and Psychology at ASU.  He was a Phoenix Police Officer for 12 years.

Davey was a family fanatic – he had a huge heart which was dedicated to his wife, Kristen, his two children and his extended family. Davey was a fanatic about loving God and telling people about him.

He was a sports fanatic – he played them his whole life and he followed them all.  He especially loved the Cardinals and Diamondbacks and all ASU sports. In this picture he is wearing a Cardinals hat that I bought him as a joke. He loved it!

He was also a people fanatic – he was a role model for all of us when it comes to loving people.  He loved to make people laugh.  He loved to be around people who were having a good time.  He was fiercely loyal to those he loved. He didn’t have any biological brothers so he recruited brothers his entire life – some wore a blue uniform, some wore a cross, others wore Moon Valley red, white and blue, and he had a large crowd of brothers who wore Cardinal Red.

If Davey loved you, you knew it – because he told you.  He knew how quickly life could change, how – in a moment –  his life could end.  So he was fanatical about telling people he loved them and he also was adamant about hearing it back.

Davey’s watch ended on May 19, 2016.  But his love, dedication, integrity and honor lives on through the lives of those of us who loved him and through the David Glasser Foundation.  There is still a lot to be done and the Foundation is proud to continue the work that David started.

Today, we pause…. we listen to the love you’s… and we remember.

Miss you, Davey.

Love you!

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We Lost a Hero

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We lost a hero 8 years ago.

My son, David Glasser, a Phoenix Police Officer was shot and killed in Laveen, Arizona on May 19, 2016 during a burglary attempt.

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 that when he was leaving, 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 David Glasser Foundation has been successfully completing its mission in Phoenix for over 7 years, continuing to make a difference with the people David protected and served.

Davey’s legacy of love is continuing to grow and positively affect 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. His ‘love you’ echoes back to me in my memory and makes me smile.

Miss you, Davey.

Love you!