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.

 

 

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.

Ten Years Ago

10 years ago, on Mother’s Day, was the last day I saw Davey’s smile.

It’s hard to believe a decade has passed. Sometimes it feels like yesterday. It reminds me again that I have a ‘before’ part of my life and an ‘after’ part. The before is before Davey was killed and it is filled with precious memories of when my family was whole. I am now in the after part of my life which has a big 6’5″ hole in it.

Some of the best words to describe this last 10 years is – it’s been a bittersweet struggle. My son, David Glasser, a Phoenix Police Officer, was killed in the line of duty on May 19, 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 make my broken heart ache – especially on this day.

Memories of my last Mother’s Day with Davey are burned into my brain. 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 13 days 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 and his family.  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 grateful 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! I have a lot to celebrate! 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 struggle that I’m describing.  Dark hours 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.

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.  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.  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.  Check it out!  Click on request to join if you’re interested.  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……..

It’s A Struggle

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 in 2016.  The journey from May 18, 2016 to now has been a constant struggle.  And this struggle intensifies during the holidays – he loved everything about Christmas.

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 sharing their own heartbreaks and the losses they have experienced with me.  And others haven’t talked about it but I can see the private pain in their eyes when we talk about my heartbreak.

 We struggle together – especially at Christmas.

So I force my attention away from who I don’t have in my life any longer.  And I focus on all the blessings God is giving me right now. My 4 grandchildren light up my life and we are blessed to live close to the two littlest ones with our daughter and her husband. We get to see their excitement and their joy today as we go visit Santa Claus. Nothing lights up my world like the smiles of my grandchildren.

We are also planning several special times with family and friends during the holidays.  We have learned a life-changing lesson in just how short our lives can be and how quickly someone can be gone.  So, because of the hole, we know we need to make the most of the time we have together.   This is not the time to get stuck in yesterday.  We have new memories to make because there is no guarantee that we’ll have tomorrow together here on earth.

And we can’t ignore the struggle that is happening in so many people’s lives at this time of year.  I read that this week of Christmas has the highest rate of suicide across our nation.

That is so wrong.

So I pray for those of us who are experiencing additional pain and loss during this difficult season.  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 struggling and I don’t want to add to the difficulties they are experiencing.

You know what feels really good? The David Glasser Foundation held our annual Shop with a Cop event yesterday in Phoenix, helping 30 kids and their families who would not have had any presents this Christmas without our support. It was a great morning of police officer volunteers helping these children buy gifts for their whole family and wrap them up so everyone is surprised Christmas morning. The kids also got to talk to Santa, eat snacks and do some crafts and games. The Phoenix Police Department was there with their super-interesting helicopters, K9 units and SWAT teams. What a morning! What a way to kick off the Christmas season!

What a great way to give joy to 30 families from Laveen, AZ., where Davey was killed.

Can each of us think of a way we can reach out helping hands to those who are struggling and need help this Christmas?

And please join me in praying for a little more peace on earth during this holiday season.

Miss you, Davey.

Love you!

 

No Word

There is no word for losing a child. A child who loses their parents is an orphan. A husband who loses his wife is a widower.

But there is no word for a parent who loses a child. Maybe that’s because the pain is indescribable. It’s so wrong. It’s not supposed to happen.

My son, David Glasser, was a Phoenix Police officer who was killed in the line of duty on May 18, 2016 and my life blew up. All of my hopes and dreams were ripped away because Davey played a part in all of them.

Parents like me have to piece our lives back together around a big hole after losing a child. It’s very hard to do. It’s a daily struggle for a long time – years – to develop new habits. It doesn’t feel right because rebuilding a life without our child feels like we are leaving a very important part of us behind.

God is the one who helped me figure out how to move forward, bringing Davey with me. Davey still has a significantly positive role in the life I have built these last 9 1/2 years since his death.

The David Glasser Foundation has played a big part in helping all of us take Davey with us as we move forward. Through the foundation, we get to complete some of the work that Davey would have done if he was still here and that feels very good.

Hosting a Law Enforcement Memorial Day community gathering at our house every year helps my husband and I take Davey with us. Davey loved to play cornhole so getting out the boards reminds us of many good times throwing some bags with him.

Writing a book about Davey’s life, his death and my journey to find hope after losing a child has helped me include Davey in the life I have pieced together since his death. Writing this blog has helped.

I have shared with you that I put together family picture albums each year and Davey always shows up in those.

Davey left a legacy of love when he taught us to say ‘love you’ instead of good-bye. Now, every time I say it or write it, it feels like Davey is standing right next to me with a smile on his face.

Not every parent who has a lost a child needs to start a foundation or write a book. Each of us has to figure out how this works for us. Some people create traditions for the birthday of the child they lost or start a scholarship for something that was significant in their child’s life.

There is no word that describes the reality of being a parent who has lost a child….

but taking them with us as we move forward honors their lives and gives us a purpose again.

Miss you, Davey.

Love you.