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 41 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!

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 ๐Ÿ™‚

asu

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.  

 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.

davey-square

It’s been over 7 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.

In my dream Davey looks just like he did in 2016.

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.

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.ย  There is a large group of us who were loving life with Davey when the bomb went off.ย ย And now we find ourselves in this other world…..which is not as much fun….andย 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 over 7 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.ย  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, 7 years later, I think about the awful road we have had to travel.ย  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 think about how that love has drastically changed this journey.

I have learned a lot about loving other people in these last 7 years.ย  I have learned a lot about what’s really important – and what’s not.ย  My heart has grown bigger as I reached out in love to the people moving forward with me on this very tough journey.

It is definitely a journey. 

I am so glad that, standing in the store 7 years ago, I decided to ‘Embrace the Journey’.ย  God has a purpose for my pain.ย  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. 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.  I recently 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 involved many emotional ups and downs which have 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.

It Disappeared

I thought it was irreplaceable.

My wedding ring had a loose stone so a major jewelry store sent it in to be fixed.

And my ring disappeared.

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

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

This ring was precious to me so I never took it off.  I didn’t want to lose it.

Now the jewelry store lost it.  Unbelievable!

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

Well, on second thought, my perspective these last 7 years since Davey was killed has definitely changed. There is a new standard in my mind that I measure  everything here on earth by to determine whether it’s irreplaceable.  And my ring actually isn’t even on that list.

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

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

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

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

Because I now clearly understand what is truly irreplaceable.

Miss you, Davey.

Love you.

I Want to Go Back

I have days when I want to go back in time. I would gladly go back to anytime before my son, David Glasser, who was a Phoenix Police Officer, was killed in the line of duty.

So much was lost when he died. So much has changed.

Do you ever want to go back?

God speaks to me – and to you – today through Isaiah when he says, “Forget the former things, do not dwell on the past. See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up, do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland.” Isaiah 43: 18-19.

God is doing a new thing in my life and in your’s. He wants our eyes to be focused on today and tomorrow. The past is past.

I have been watching God do an entirely new thing in my life since my son was killed. God has a very different plan than I had for the rest of my life and he is gradually revealing it, one step at a time. I could have never imagined this – it’s totally different than the plans I had.

God is making a way in the wilderness that defined my life after Davey died. He is leading me to streams which feed my soul. He is guiding me out of the wasteland of grief and pain where I found myself 7 years ago.

The past is past. God wants my ‘now’ to count. He wants your ‘now’ to count.

He is doing a new thing.

Dream Snatcher

I would love to post a feel-good blog for today since its Mother’s Day. Unfortunately, the truth is that this day does not feel all that good for Mothers who have lost children.

It’s been almost 7 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. ย We laughed, we played and we travelled. ย We watched Davey play a lot of sports and we went to many games of all kinds in all different cities with him.

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.

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

Dreams of Davey and his, wife, Kristen, growing old together.  They were married young so we talked about them the possibility of them celebrating their 70th wedding anniversary.

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. 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.

It’s 7 years later and one of the hardest parts of surviving this tough, tough, journey is all of the dreams that have been snatched away.

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

We are so grateful for all of the awesome memories we have.

But will be no more new memories with him.

That’s a very painful reality to deal with.

Miss you, Davey.

Love you.

_________________________________________________

If you are interested in reading more about my story, I recently 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.

It’s Difficult

Being left behind is hard…..

it’s tough.

When someone you love dies, the emotions are strong, the grief is heavy and the loss is extremely painful.ย  After losing my son, my mom and dad, two of my older brothers along with all of my grandparents and all of my aunts and uncles as well as some friends, I feel like I’ve experienced a lot of death.

Each one is different.  Each relationship is different. 

My son, David Glasser, was a Phoenix Police Officer who was killed in the line of duty almost 7 years ago. His death has been the most difficult for me – by far.ย  I think one of the things that makes this loss so huge is how young he was – he was only 34 years-old.ย  We lost so much of his life.ย  I can’t imagine any death being more difficult that his.

Davey loved God, he loved his family and friends and he loved the city he served and protected. He lived life to its fullest, sharing his faith regularly and he left a legacy of love to those of us who have been left behind.

So I’m very interested when God starts talking about why the righteous die in Isaiah 57:

“No one understands that the righteous are taken away to be spared from evil.” verse 1.

I believe that everything God says is true.  He knows the future and sometimes he chooses to spare his children from bad and evil things that would happen to them if they stayed on earth.  I believe that Davey completed his purpose on earth so God took him home.  No more evil will be done to him.

God sees our death on earth as a reward because, as believers, we get to go home to be with him. “Those who walk uprightly enter into peace; they find rest as they lie in death.” vs 2.

Their bodies remain here on earth but their souls are free and filled with joy as they walk hand-in-hand with Jesus into heaven.

Those of us here on earth who have put our faith in Jesus will experience this joy as well someday. Today we may be travelling down a very difficult road but we have hope because we know how our journey on earth ends.

Thank you for the truth in your word, Abba Father.  Please comfort those of us who are left behind.

Surrounded By the Rubble

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 would have been retiring from the Police force right about now. He planned to get his teaching certificate to teach in high school and coach high school basketball.ย  He would have been an awesome teacher and an even greater coach.ย  I witnessed some of his potential when Micah, his son, grew old enough to start playing in various sports leagues.ย  Davey was always beside him during water breaks, giving him tips and encouraging him.

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 he 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.

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.  He 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 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.

I’m standing here because I’m not sitting. I’m not getting stuck in the rubble.

I’m still here because God has a purpose for me.ย  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 I published it on Amazon almost 2 years ago.

It’s obvious that I’m not done yet.ย  So I’ll keep moving forward, going where God leads me until he calls me to my forever home –ย  where there are no tears, no grief, no rubble.

Miss you Davey.

Love you.

He Knew It!

He knew it was important to say it.

And he knew how it important it was to show it.

My son, David Glasser, was a Phoenix Police Officer who was killed in the line of duty May 18, 2016.  And he knew how important the words ‘Love you’ are.

He said these words to his squad every time he walked out to take a call.ย  He insisted that his squad say “Love you’ back to him and to each other, too.ย  Davey also said these words instead of ‘good-bye’ to everyone in his life he cared about.ย  He knew how unsure life is and how quickly things change. He knew that these words can easily become the last thing you get to say to each other.ย  And he knew that these last words can either haunt you or bring a smile to your face.ย 

He decided to make sure that his last words always brought a smile.

Davey knew that ‘Love you’ is not just two small words. Strong emotions are attached to them which bring hope and warmth and worth when we are separated from each other.ย  Sometimes that separation is a couple of hours and sometimes – like my family – we are separated for the rest of our lives here on earth.

“Love you’ has brought strength and comfort to me when I needed it most.

God tells us that “Love builds up’ in 1 Corinthians and I have been a witness to how true that is these last 6 1/2 years.

Because Davey’s ‘Love you’s’ still echo in our heads, his family and friends have adopted them as our own habit.ย  It has become our mantra.ย  We don’t leave each other without hugs and ‘Love you’s”.ย  And this love has built us up.

It has built me up.ย  “Love you” rolls through my head during the dark nights when the hole in my life where Davey should be seems too much to bear.ย  It gives me compassion when other people share their losses and tragedies with me.

Love has made the impossible task of moving forward after Davey’s death possible. My moving forward has recently included publishing a book on Amazon, “Then I Looked Up: Losing a Child, Finding His Legacy of Love.” This book includes the rest of my story if you’re interested.

I have found that it is hard to be angry when everyone around me is saying they love me.

It is hard to be bitter when hugs and ‘Love you’s’ are coming from all directions.

And it is hard to feel like I’m all alone when I am surrounded by love.

Love builds up.

Thank you for your legacy of love, Davey.

Miss you.

Love you.

The Pain of Permanence

May 18, 2016 my world blew up – thrusting me into a dark, confusing, very sad place.  A place of grief.  A place I never wanted to go.  My son, David Glasser, a Phoenix Police Officer, was killed in the line of duty.

I have had other people very close to me die – my mother, father and older brother.

But this was not the same.  Not even close.  And I can’t even explain how much worse it has been compared to other deaths in my family.

My first year after Davey was killed was filled with a swirl of emotions.  My heart was smashed as the light Davey brought into my life disappeared.  My plans and dreams for him were ripped away.  I was smacked in the face with situations that were extremely tough.  It all hurt.  That first year was unbelievably difficult.

I was hoping the second year would be better.  People always say that the first year is the worst, don’t they?

But it wasn’t.  In the second year, I began to feel the pain of permanence.  The reality of life long-term without Davey didn’t seem possible.  But it was happening.

And it keeps happening.ย  I have experienced how empty his birthday feels without him 7 times. I know what Christmas and Mother’s Day and Father’s Day are like without Davey.

I know the heartbreak behind the smiles when we celebrate the birthdays of his children when a very happy and proud father is missing.

There are no words to describe how awful the permanence of this situation feels.

In the months following May 18, 2016, I had no idea how my family and I would find our way back to our normal. ย Now, 6 1/2 years later, I understand that we will never go back. That time, that place is gone.

My life – our life – back there is gone.

So we have to move forward – a new life, a new reality, a new normal. I’ve been writing a book about my journey of surviving Davey’s death and it’s bittersweet. The sweet part is all of the great memories I have with Davey – fun times, lots of laughs. The bitter part is all we have lost, the extreme grief, the impossible reality of living without him.

I don’t use the word ‘healing’ in relationship to the grief and loss I’ve experienced from Davey’s death because that sounds like it goes away.ย  I don’t think that’s a good description of this journey of survival.ย  Often something will happen that touches a piece of my broken heart and the tears that slide down my face are visible evidence of how much I have lost.ย  I’m gradually getting used to my life without Davey but this broken heart is not going away….

and it’s not invisible.

In some ways, each new year gets more difficult –

the pain of permanence.

Miss you, Davey.

Love you.

His Final 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.ย ย It would be something I could get out to read over and over again on the dark days when I need some encouragement.ย  I have now written letters to everyone who is dear to me in my life and they will receive it after I’m gone. I’m going to date them and write another one every ten years or so if I stay on this planet for a while longer.

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 when I was recently 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.

He 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!