Bittersweet

I would like to write a nice, ‘feel good’ blog for Mother’s Day.  But it isn’t happening.

What’s happening is a rollercoaster of bittersweet emotions on this Mother’s Day.  Some of the issue for me is the fact that my son, David Glasser, a Phoenix Police Officer, was killed in the line of duty on May 18, 2016 – right after Mother’s Day.   The horror of that day has overshadowed my Mother’s Day ever since.  The permanent, painful changes in my life emphasize the hole in my heart – especially on this day.

The last Mother’s Day I had with Davey was just 10 days before he was shot and killed.  I was told later that he had the opportunity for some off-duty work that day but he turned it down, saying he wanted to spend the day with the ‘mothers’ in his life.  That doesn’t surprise me – that’s who he was.  He had his priorities straight.

Davey also knew I was alone that day because my husband had taken an emergency flight to Pennsylvania.  My husband’s father had just died.  Yes, my father-in-law passed away two weeks before our son was killed.  Have you ever felt the crushing impact of multiple bombs going off in your life?

When I remember that Mother’s Day, all I can think about is sitting outside at lunch with Davey.  I remember what it felt like to hang out with him – to laugh and have fun.  I remember how different my world felt with him in it.

My Mother’s Day will never be the same.  There is an important person missing.

But then I remember how thankful I am to have my daughter and four gorgeous grand darlings –  each one of them is such a blessing in my life!  When I focus on them, Mother’s Day starts to sparkle again.  All the possibilities!  All the new memories to make!  Watching my daughter as she does an awesome job being a mother to her two small children brings me joy. Watching my grand darlings grow into their own personalities and strengths is awesome.  Watching Davey’s children mature has the added joy of seeing glimpses of him as they exhibit traits they inherited from their dad.

If you have experienced the loss of a child, you know the rollercoaster that I’m describing.  Dark days and then the light shines through.  Things going smooth….until they don’t.  Several days without tears and then a day when it’s hard to stop the waterfall.

Mother’s day – it’s bitter sweet when you have lost a child.

Miss you, Davey.

Love you.

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 8 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.
  • I’ve been retired for over 7 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.

Now, 8 years later, I think about the awful road we have had to travel.  Parts of it have been 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.

I have learned a lot about loving other people in these last 8 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 definitely a journey. 

I am so glad that, standing in the store almost 8 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.  Last year, 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 brought me a year of emotional ups and downs and many great conversations with people about their own journey of grief. This has all added up to 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.

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.

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.

Yes

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 Joshua Briese from the Gila River Police Department in Arizona was killed in the line of duty yesterday. Since Davey was killed when we lived in Phoenix, we are connected to all law enforcement events in Arizona. When I heard the news, 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. Then I found out later that Joshua’s dad, Deputy David Briese, was also killed in the line of duty in 2006! Unbelievable tragedy for this family. They are reliving their own nightmare.

For me, 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 have discovered that its not good for me to focus on all I have lost. 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 get news like I did yesterday.

There are names that are given to people who have lost others that they were close to. For example, a wife who loses her husband is called a widow. A child who loses their parents is called an orphan. 

There is no name like this for a parent who has lost a child. 

Maybe because no words can describe it.

Miss you more today, Davey.

Love you.