You Don’t Understand

I know its very hard for parents who have not lost a child to understand parents who have. There is nothing that compares to loosing a child. I think losing a spouse is the closest thing and it’s still not like losing a child.

If you want to try to understand and help a parent who has lost a child, one thing you should know is that the statement “Something good will come out of this.” doesn’t help and I’ll tell you why.

My son, David Glasser, was a Phoenix Police Officer who was killed in the line of duty on May 19, 2016. Davey was one of the good guys who helped people all day and worked hard to take the bad guys off the street his whole career. He was on a trajectory to help the people of Phoenix every day for his first career and then he planned to teach high school and coach basketball. Can you even imagine how many people and how many kids he would have positively affected in his two careers?

That’s only part of the good that would have happened if he had not been killed. The personal gain for me would be all the smiles and fun and great times we would have had with Davey. All the love and help and encouragement he would have given us will never be. All the great memories of awesome times together. Multiply this loss by all his family and his at least a hundred friends.

That’s the good that should have happened. That’s the good that will never be. That’s the good that I grieve over.

Yes, there have been good things that have happened since Davey was killed. The David Glasser Foundation is still fulfilling Davey’s legacy by sponsoring youth sports team all over Phoenix and helping families from Laveen in need at Christmas with a Shop with a Cop. There is a David Glasser Sports facility in Laveen which has become a great hub of good things for that community. There are many other good things that have happened.

But none of it is as good as the things that would have happened had Davey lived. All those good things have been lost forever.

So I may smile when someone talks about the good that has come out of Davey’s death but inside I know there’s just no comparison.

You just don’t understand.

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.

It’s a Sign

It’s a sign that one man who cared can make a difference.

It’s a sign that David Glasser’s legacy of love is destined to have a permanent effect on the kids who live in Laveen….and beyond.

David Glasser, my son, was a Phoenix Police Officer who was killed in the line of duty on May 19, 2016 in Laveen, Arizona.  He loved being a police officer and he committed his life to helping make the streets of Phoenix a safer place for you and I to live.  He wanted to make a difference by working as one of the good guys, making our communities safer for our kids to play in.  He asked to work in the highest risk areas of Phoenix in order to protect you and me from the dangerous people who prowl the streets of those neighborhoods.

Everyone who drives by this plaque in Laveen is reminded of the day that the City of Phoenix lost a hero. A couple of months after the first sign went up, the 2d sign was added to the post. Someone saw it and sent me this picture. Love it!

A year after he was killed, the Laveen Elementary School District decided to honor Davey and his memory by naming the athletic field they were building after him.  What a great idea!  Davey loved sports – all of them.  He was a huge fan of the Cardinals, the Diamondbacks and all of the ASU sports teams. Whenever the Cardinals would have a tough year and attendance at their games would go down, Davey would talk loud and long about ‘fair weather fans’.  Loyalty was a huge issue for Davey.

Davey played baseball and basketball, focusing on basketball as he got into high school and onto the varsity team.  He knew a lot about sports and planned to become a coach after he retired from the police department.  That’s one of the many dreams which will never come true.

But Davey never dreamed that an athletic complex would be named after him.  And that has come true.  Here’s the sign:

It’s a beautiful complex at 5001 West Dobbins Road in Laveen.  Stop in sometime and take a look.

There is not a more appropriate way to honor Davey than by naming a sports complex after him.  And there is no better place for it than in the middle of the community he died serving.  Kids playing sports on these fields for many years to come will be reminded of a Police Officer who cared enough to work hard in their community to help keep them safe.  His love for his community lives on here at these fields. They have become a community- gathering place for Laveen. Fun and games are constantly happening here and neighbors are growing relationships. Davey would be proud to have his name on this place.

It’s a sign that one man who cared can make a difference.

Miss you, Davey.

Love you.

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.  It’s now over 10 years later and 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.

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.Β  There is something else going on.Β  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.Β  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.Β  He is missing more and more important events and milestones of his family and our family.Β  He’s not here for first days of school and a new year of baseball.Β  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. Β Love has transformed our tragedy into a growing season. Β 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’. Β It says ‘ You’re valuable to me’. Β 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. Β 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.Β It will change your life if you let it.

Miss you, Davey.

Love you.

 

 

He Noticed

He saw me.

He saw you.

He noticed what was going on with us.

We weren’t just a blur in his day.

He noticed.

My son, David Glasser, was a Phoenix Police Officer who was killed in the line of duty May 18, 2016.  Since that time, I have received hundreds of comments and messages from all different people and many of these comments sounded something like, ” I didn’t know David well but, whenever he saw me, he would smile and talk with me.  He often encouraged me or made me laugh.  I could tell he was one of the good guys.”

He noticed people.  He cared about us – and we all realized it, didn’t we?

When Davey was around,  you and I could tell he cared because of the things he said and how he acted.  We knew he liked spending time with us.  We were all important to him.

There were some things he didn’t care about – like your age or ethnic background or how popular you were.  He would often make jokes about those things because he really didn’t think they were important.  In fact, if he found out you didn’t have many friends, he would immediately adopt you and draw you into his large circle of friends.  Suddenly, you had a LOT of friends!  Those of you who tailgated with him saw this all the time.

He noticed.  And he cared about the important stuff.

This made him a great police officer.  People mattered.  And he was willing to do something about it.

The board of directors for the David Glasser Foundation had the opportunity to talk with the 1st Graders of Cheatham Elementary School a year after Davey was killed.  Cheatham is the closest elementary school to the location where Davey was shot.  These 1st graders were really excited about the new backpacks they had received from the David Glasser Foundation the month before when school started and they wanted to show their appreciation.

So many bright and happy faces.

So much energy and enthusiasm for life.

So much potential to be a positive contributor to their community in the future and make it a better place to live.

And they live in one of the highest risk areas of Phoenix.

A high risk of being a victim of a crime.

A high risk of being influenced into making bad choices and becoming part of the problem.

A high risk of losing their enthusiasm for being a positive contributor in their community.

Their future was at risk.

For all these reasons, this was the area of Phoenix where Davey chose to risk his own life to serve and protect. He noticed. He cared.

He made a difference.

And his legacy lives on.

Miss you, Davey.

Love you.

Not Just One Day

Davey made a habit of telling people he loved them and showing love to them.  He would say “love you” instead of good-bye to everyone he cared about. He was a Phoenix Police Officer who was killed in the line of duty on May 18, 2016.  And he was my son.

Davey thought telling people he loved them and showing them he loved them was so important that he tried to influence those around him to also catch the ‘love you’ habit.  He was so persistent that even his squad of tough cops at work said ‘Love you’ to each other before they left the squad room.  As a result, the last words any of us that he cared about heard from him are ‘Love You’.  These words have echoed through our minds these last 10 years as we have struggled to deal with the huge hole his death left in our lives.

So, does it surprise you that Davey didn’t like Valentine’s Day?

daveydave-tony-and-carter

He thought is was a holiday made up by the card and candy manufacturers in order to make money.  He knew that telling someone you love them and showing it was not a one day each year holiday. It should be an every day event.  So, setting aside one day a year didn’t make sense to him.  I received Valentine cards from him during his ‘make your mom a valentine card’ years at school and church but not very many after that.

What I received from Davey was so much more valuable than a card.  He gave me consistent, genuine love and attention. Those of you who are his friends and family know what I’m talking about.

He cared about us and he showed it regularly in a thousand different ways.

Every day.

Isn’t that so much more important than remembering to show our love one day a year?

Don’t get me wrong – I like Valentine’s Day.  I think giving candy and valentines to my grand darlings is fun.  I  have received many beautiful bouquets of flowers from my husband which I really enjoy – I love flowers.   

But the challenge for all of us is to figure out how to make every day Valentine’s Day for those we love.  I’m not talking about buying stuff.  I’m talking about expressing our love in words and actions every day.

I started ‘The David Glasser #8144 Love You Campaign’ on Facebook the first Christmas after Davey died.Β  The purpose of the page is to show love and give encouragement to Law Enforcement Officers, their families and everyone that supports the Thin Blue Line.Β  It also helps get news about some of the good things that Police Officers do out on social media. The group now has more than 1700 members and is still growing.Β  Check it out!Β  Click on request to join if you’re interested.Β  You’ll also get all the latest news about the David Glasser Foundation.

There has never been a time when our law enforcement officers and their families need more love and support.  Let’s figure out how we can make every day a day they feel loved and encouraged – just like Valentine’s day.

Let’s accept the challenge of trying to make the people we care about feel special and loved every day.  Those of us who knew Davey remember how that feels.

Miss you, Davey.

Love you!

If you would like to know more about this story, check out my book, Then I Looked Up: Losing a Child, Finding His Legacy of Love, which is published on Amazon.

No Regrets

No regrets – it’s a good feeling.

David Glasser, my son who was a Phoenix Police Officer, went to work on May 18, 2016 and he never came home. We have shed a lot of tears since then. All the plans and dreams we had of sharing our lives with Davey have been ripped away.

There’s a huge 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.

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.

He talked his squad into saying it as well.  ‘Love you’ is the last thing they said to Davey.  And it was the last thing he said to them.

No regrets.

Just awesome memories of a very special person we miss every day……..