I Catch A Glimpse

daves-locker

Davey’s squad did an awesome job of turning his locker into a beautiful memorial to their fallen team member and brother friend. I recently talked with a police officer from Davey’s old precinct and his locker is right next to Davey’s so he sees it every day.

Fallen but never Forgotten.

A couple of months after Davey was killed in the line of duty, we were invited to go see his locker. As we stood in the men’s locker room at the precinct, it took me a little while to realize I was looking around, over the heads of everyone else.

I was looking for Davey.

In the sea of the blue, it was an automatic reaction.

And then,

I remembered…..

I wasn’t going to see him here today. I wasn’t going to see him again on this earth – ever.

These types of events are bitter-sweet.  It’s great to get together to honor Davey and the sacrifice he made in order to protect and defend others. These times also shine a spotlight on the big hole that has been left in our lives.

When I saw his Cardinals hat on the top shelf of his locker, I caught a quick glimpse of him wearing that hat and smiling at me with eyes that look so much like mine.

I love catching glimpses of him.

There have been times during this last 9 years since Davey was killed that I would be sitting next to my grandson and, out of the corner of my eye, I would see a young Davey sitting next to me.

When I look over, it’s obviously not Davey.  It’s his son, Micah. So much like his father.

davey-about-5-editted

Micah 6:8, “He has shown you, O man, what is good, and what does the LORD require of you?  To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God.”

Justice and mercy and humbleness before God is stamped on his heart and soul.

His long legs spread out in odd directions when he’s getting comfortable. Such a bright smile! Intelligent and kind eyes.

That big head full of ideas and questions and plans. Taller than everyone else he hangs out with so his head is always easy to find in a crowd. Always gentle with his sister. He is patient with her when her when she shows her ‘strong will’ and doesn’t want to have fun.

He needs to know the rules and follow the rules.  He doesn’t want to get into trouble.  But he will question the rules.  They have to make sense to him.

He loves sports……all of them.

And he knows A LOT more about sports than most kids his age.

He loves his family. They are extremely important to him. And he loves his friends.  It’s not hard to become his friend…..his heart is always open for another one.

He loves to go…. and do… and have fun.

davey-about-7-edittted

He’s an obvious extrovert who loves people. And he loves God.  He knows a lot of the Bible stories – one of his favorites is David and Goliath.

Am I talking about Davey or Micah?

You guessed it – I’m talking about both of them.

Don’t get me wrong – Micah’s personality is also packed with awesome things that are uniquely Micah.  I’m very interested to see how all of these great qualities roll up into the amazing young man he is destined to be.

Meanwhile, I will treasure these  ‘glimpses’ of Davey…..

until I go ‘home’ and see the real thing again.

Miss you, Davey.

Love you.

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.  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 10 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.  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.

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.  After almost eight years, 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.

His Last Words

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

My son, David Glasser, was a Phoenix Police officer who was killed over 6 1/2 years ago.  He was doing his job just like he had done every day for 12 years.  But on May 18, 2016, his life ended.

The worst happened.

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

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

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

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

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

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

He was 18 years-old.

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

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

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

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

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

Thank you for the letter, Davey.

Miss you.

Love you!

It All Shook

May 18, 2016.

David Glasser, my son, a Phoenix Police Officer, was killed in the line of duty on that day.

And everything in my world shook.

You cannot imagine what that feels like until it happens to you.  And it wasn’t just my life – the tsunami of his death hit everyone who was close to Davey. My two grandchildren’s world exploded.  My daughter-in-law’s world crashed. My daughter’s world flipped upside down as all of her dreams and plans with her big brother crumbled.

My husband’s world shattered into tiny pieces.  Davey was his best friend and my husband’s father had just passed away 10 days before Davey was killed.  Too much. How do we deal with this much devastating loss in such a short time?

Davey’s close friend’s and squad member’s worlds spiraled in various directions as each person felt the blow of Davey’s death.

The world shook.  It twisted.  It filled with unimaginable grief.  It emptied of joy and light.

I needed something solid to hold onto while everything around me smashed and rocked.  And I found the one thing that didn’t shatter, didn’t tilt, didn’t explode.  He was right beside me and he was Rock Solid – my Father God.  Always there, always loving me, always caring for me.

God has been with us every step of the way as we have each had to pick our way through the devastation Davey’s death had on our lives.  I am completely convinced that God is good and nothing that has happened to me changes that.

When my world gradually stopped shaking, I realized I was in this new place, a new reality.  It’s somewhere I never, ever wanted to be. My head recognizes this place and I know I have been left behind for a purpose. I have to keep moving forward. 

My heart is still regularly tugged back to a time when Davey was here, making me laugh and filling my life with his special kind of love. My husband and I just spent 10 days in the Phoenix area making new memories with Davey’s two children, having fun with old friends and making new friends. I had to stop my heart from focusing on how empty Phoenix feels without Davey. It’s hard. It hurts. People and places just kept touching the broken parts of my heart, the parts that will remain like that until I go to my forever home. So many precious memories of a different time……

my life before my whole world shook.

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!

asu

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.

Dream Snatcher

It’s been over 8 years since my son, David Glasser, who was a Phoenix Police Officer was killed in the line of duty. We have great memories of our lives with him.  We laughed, we played and we travelled.  We watched Davey play a lot of sports and we went to many games of all kinds in all different cities with him.

We have so many memories that bring big smiles to our faces.

But all of our dreams for the future with Davey have been snatched away.

Dreams of Davey coaching his son and daughter in baseball, basketball, volleyball and every other sport there is are gone.

Dreams of Davey retiring from the police force and going on to serve his community in other ways have disappeared.

Dreams of Davey and his son, Micah, playing a mean game of one-on-one basketball as Micah grew taller and taller, eventually passing up Davey have been shattered. I know that was Davey’s dream when he built a basketball court in his back yard.

Dreams of Davey walking his beautiful daughter, Eden, down the aisle have been ripped away.

I’ve lived 8 1/2 years without Davey and one of the hardest parts of surviving this tough, tough, journey are all of the dreams that have been snatched away.

All of the great times and fun with Davey that will never be.

It took almost 3 years for my memories of him to become more precious than painful. Now I am so grateful for all of the awesome times we had together.

But will be no more new memories with him.

That’s a very tough reality to deal with.

Miss you, Davey.

Love you.

_________________________________________________

If you are interested in reading more about my story, I have published a book on Amazon, “Then I Looked Up: Losing a Child, Finding His Legacy of Love”. This book is about Davey’s death, life and my journey of finding hope after losing a child.

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!

An Unusual Kind of Love

David Glasser, my son, was a Phoenix Police Officer who was killed in the line of duty on May 18, 2016.  The mark he left on us was an unusual kind of love.  It was an outspoken love – a love that broke down some of the walls we have built as adults.  He said ‘love you’ often and you knew he meant it by how he included you and had fun with you and was loyal to you.  You knew there was a commitment being made when he said ‘love you”.

It wasn’t just something he said.

Today is the 8th anniversary of Davey’s funeral. That’s the day I learned that Davey said ‘Love you’ instead of good-bye to everyone he cared about – even his tough squad of fellow police officers. He insisted they say it back to him because he said they never knew if they would see each other again.

That’s the day I began to really understand the power of love.   These last 8 years I have been amazed at the large impact Davey has made on the lives of those who knew him and many more that never knew him but have heard his story as we have started loving one another with an outspoken love like he taught us.  Saying it and showing it.

Unusual love like Davey’s leaves a mark.

If I were to draw a picture of the mark Davey has left on us, it would not be a heart.  It would be a magic wand.  Because I have discovered since Davey’s death that loving people out loud has magical qualities which cannot be explained.

There is also a cost to experiencing this kind of love. There is a commitment.

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

Commitment means loving this person even when they are unlovable.  Sometimes it means offering help and other times it means drawing helpful boundaries. This commitment is not giving up even when its tough or strange or even a little weird.  Yes, weird.  If you’ve been really trying to love others out loud, you know what I mean.  The commitment is setting love as a priority and letting go of other things that we always used to think were important.

Love changes things.  It has a supernatural power that comes straight from God.  Love brings light into the darkness.  Love soothes pain and sadness and loneliness.

Love really can change the world.

Thank you for the permanent mark of unusual love you have left on our lives, Davey.

Miss you.

Love you.

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.