Tag: police officer line of duty death

I’m Not Mad

Some friends of mine once 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.

I hadn’t thought about it before but, 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 was 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 ago 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, “Well, that’s not the story God is writing right now.  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 6 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.

On By Judy GlasserIn When the Worst Happens2 Comments

He’s Not Gone

I love pictures – especially pictures of my family.

Now that we all walk around every day with good cameras on our phones, those of us who love pictures have a lot of great ones of the events and activities of our lives.

But the pictures are on our phones.

Or they are on Facebook for those of us who are into that.  Or in our clouds – where ever that is.  Ten years from now, when my grandchildren want to look back on family history, where will they look?  Scroll through everybody’s phones? Maybe we’ll have an electronic process that’s easy and convenient by then.  We don’t have anything like that now.

This has motivated me to electronically create family yearbooks and give them to my family each year. I have a copy of the books for each grandchild as well – maybe that will be their twenty-first birthday gift. I love pictures, I have a creative side and I’m pretty good on the computer so making the books for everyone has been a joy…..

until 2016.

That was the year my son, David Glasser, a Phoenix Police Officer was killed in the line of duty on May 18th.  My world exploded.  The story of our family turned dark and sad and painful.

About 6 months after Davey’s death, I sat down to start our family yearbook for that year and I attempted to make the first page – a dedication page to Davey.  It took me several weeks of struggling to complete just that first page because of my grief.  I would put a box of tissues next to me, determined to get past that first page but I just couldn’t.  Sobs made my hands shake and the anguish in my broken heart would overwhelm me.  Each time I tried, I had to stop.  The emotional fall-out of trying to put together the pictures of the tragedy that happened in our lives in 2016 would follow me around like a dark cloud for several days.

So I stopped working on the 2016 family yearbook.  Whenever I thought about it in 2017, I just ignored it.  Whenever I thought about it in 2018, I would log in and attempt to start working on it, but it hurt.

Too heart wrenching.

Too many tears.

I just couldn’t deal with documenting the year we lost Davey.  I thought about skipping 2016 and going on to 2017 but that was impossible.  There was no way I could skip 2016 – our world had totally changed, we had experienced the worst and our lives had become unrecognizable from what they were the year before.  A 2017 yearbook wouldn’t make any sense without a 2016 book.

So each time I sat down to work on the 2016 book, I would end up staring at the dedication page with tears rolling down my face.  Then I would quit and close my computer.  I did this every 3 to 4 months….

until 2019.

After 3 years of trying and failing, I opened up my computer in 2019 to see if I could get past Davey’s dedication page in our family yearbook for 2016 and, somehow, suddenly, it felt very right to be documenting my family’s extremely tough journey through that year.  I treasured the pictures and memories of the days before May 18th, 2016.  I loved fitting the pictures on the pages – remembering special moments of Davey’s last months.

And the pictures we took after May 18th actually filled some gaps in my memory caused by the fog of grief and the swirling in my head.  They are important memories of how we struggled and loved each other through the pain.

I realized that I had turned a corner on this road of loss. With God walking closely beside me, my memories had now become more precious than painful.

I have finished the book for 2017. We had a super busy year in 2017 with memorials and Police Week in Washington, DC.  So many people and organizations did great things to remember Davey and show that they cared about us. It felt good to review it all as I put the pictures in order. Our 2017 family book is a really big book full of special memories. 

And Davey is there with us.

I have started on the 2018 family photo book.  I’m a couple years behind and now that I’m writing a real book, I’m going to get even more behind but I’m confident that I will get caught up someday.

I’m so very grateful that my memories have become more precious than painful.

Miss you, Davey.

Love you.

On By Judy GlasserIn When the Worst Happens2 Comments

It’s Invisible…

but it’s there.

It’s a cloud of grief with my son, David Glasser’s name on it.  He was a Phoenix Police Officer who was killed in the line of duty on May 18, 2016.   This cloud has hung over my life since that day.  You don’t see it or feel it.

But I do.

I have moments of silent grief when anyone I know shares that they talked to their son or went somewhere with their son.   That used to be my husband and I.  We lived 1 1/2 miles away from Davey and his family the last 5 years of his life.  We talked to him almost every day and saw him almost as much.  We were included in all of his plans for fun which were many and often.

Oh, how we miss those fun times with Davey!

I have an Officer Down Memorial Page ap on my phone which notifies me whenever another officer is killed in the line of duty. That notification gives me moments of silent grief for the family, friends and coworkers who are now experiencing the same nightmare we did 6 years ago. It brings back the memories of the shock and disbelief of those first few weeks….and months…..and years. So I pray for them because God has been my Rock since this bomb with all it’s repercussions hit my life.

God is the only thing that didn’t shake in my life when Davey was killed.

I have moments of silent grief when anything negative about Police Officers comes onto the television.  Any disrespect or dishonor exhibited for Police Officers is very personal to me.  It feels like disrespect and dishonor for Davey’s bravery and commitment in serving and protecting his community.

Davey gave his life for the people in his city.

I have moments of silent grief whenever I do something Davey used to do.  Even something as simple as cooking beer brats takes me back to Davey’s kitchen as I watched him make a big pot of brats for all of the friends and family that he was inviting over that day. 

Davey loved people so he found lots of reasons to invite people to his house to have a good time.

There are many moments of silent grief when I watch Davey’s son and daughter playing sports.  His son, Micah, wears Davey’s number on his jersey whenever he can get it. Davey would have been right in the middle of it all, coaching them and showing them how proud he was of them.

He was such a great dad!

I have moments of silent grief whenever I see someone receiving a folded flag.  We have a folded flag in our house and we know all about the pain and loss that comes with it.

I have moments silent grief whenever I’m around Davey’s friends and squad members.  It’s great to be together and the love and support we have for one another makes a difference … but the hole he left in our lives is so big.

People have asked me if memorials like Police week are hard and I always say they are bittersweet. It’s feels right and good for us to remember and honor our fallen heroes but these memorials definitely shine a spotlight on the hole in my life.

What’s really hard is living every day without Davey. That’s the worst.

If you have experienced a tragedy like mine, you understand.  If you haven’t, I hope you never know what this cloud of grief feels like.

Miss you, Davey.

Love you.

On By Judy GlasserIn When the Worst Happens4 Comments

I Feel It

I feel the sadness gradually growing in my heart.  I try to ignore the cloud of dread that is starting to form deep in my soul.

It’s May.

The empty place in my life begins to blot out the sunshine.  This emptiness has a name – Davey.  My son, David Glasser, a Phoenix Police Officer, was killed in the line of duty on May 19, 2016.

My May used to be all about having fun on Mother’s Day but now my Mother’s Day is bittersweet. My May also was focused on celebrating another successful year of marriage with my husband on May 23 but now that date is a reminder to be thankful that our marriage survived all the trials and heartache we have gone through together these last 6 years.

Since 2016, May has been more about the huge cloud in our lives that is Davey’s End of Watch Anniversary. 

It’s been 6 very  long years.

Six years of a level of grief I didn’t know was possible.

Six years of a growing hole in my life that is impossible to fill.

Six years of remembering and missing Davey – an awesome man, son, husband, father, friend and Police Officer.

Six years of dealing with the painful reality of all that has been lost.

Six years of figuring out how to move forward, honoring Davey’s sacrifice and his legacy.

Six years of rebuilding dreams in the void where Davey was supposed to be.

Six years without his smile.

Six years of counting on God to get me through another day without Davey.

Six years of visiting Davey’s spot in the cemetery where he is surrounded by other thin blue line heroes.  We used to visit Davey’s spot every May 19th but we have moved to Denver so now stop in every time we’re in town.

I have started a windchime collection on Davey’s tree right next to his spot.  If you have been following my blog, you know we planted a tree there right after his funeral and the first tree died.  It was just another disappointment in a long list of disappointments.  The good news is that the second tree is healthy and growing.  Its strong enough now to hold all the windchimes we want to put  on it.

I know many of you will be visiting Davey’s spot on May 18th or 19th to honor and remember him – thank you.  Feel free to add a windchime to the collection on the tree and send me a picture or post it on the David Glasser Love You Campaign Facebook page if you are a member of that – I would love to see it!

The closer we get to May 19, the more I wish we could just skip the whole month.  Since that’s not possible, we will spend May 19th doing something that Davey liked to do – like playing cornhole.  We have found in the past that this helps us get through a tough anniversary.  It brings back some of our great memories of good times with Davey.

I’m so thankful we had 34 1/2 years of great memories with Davey.

Miss you, Davey.

Love you

On By Judy GlasserIn When the Worst HappensLeave a comment

It’s Here

May is here and it’s a tough month for me. My son, David Glasser, was a Phoenix Police Officer who was killed in the line of duty in May 2016. His official End of Watch is May 19 but, if you’ve read my blogs you know I often use May 18th as the day he was killed because he was gone by the time I saw him in the hospital. Machines kept his body functioning until the next day so we could say goodbye and he could fulfill his wish of being an organ donor. But the awesome son, husband, father, brother and friend that we all knew was not in that hospital bed.

May 18th will forever be the worst day of my life. We always do something to commemorate Davey’s official EOW – May 19th – which works for me because the worst day – May 18th – is behind me by then.

May starts out with Mother’s Day. Bitter sweet. I am so grateful for having 34 years with Davey, I am so thankful for our daughter and her family here in Denver and I am hugely blessed to have 4 adorable grand darlings. But Mother’s Day is not all flowers and smiles for any mother who has lost a child. The hole in our lives is bigger on Mother’s Day.

And, of course, my Blue Family knows that May 15th is Peace Officers Memorial Day. So 4 days before Davey’s official E.O.W our whole Blue Family is remembering and honoring all of our fallen heroes. Too many men and women have died serving their communities. Too many families are going through the nightmare we are going through. Too many lives blown apart.

I’m sure you can start to understand why May is an especially hard month for me.

Last year my husband I went to Washington, DC and spent several hours on May 15th at the Law Enforcement Officers Memorial where Davey’s name is engraved. Police Week was moved to October last year but we wanted to visit the memorial in May. 38 – W:30 is Davey’s spot in case you ever visit the memorial.

The good news in May is my wedding anniversary with Dave, my husband, on the 23rd. Forty-one years this year. I’m grateful that our anniversary is at the end of May. It is a light at the end of a dark tunnel of remembering and it gives us something positive to celebrate. It is an accomplishment to be proud of, especially because together we have survived the worst thing that can happen to a parent. Our anniversary reminds us that our marriage has been one of our anchors in the continuing storm of missing Davey.

The main thing that has helped me keep moving forward through the roller coaster of pain and grief that has defined my life these last almost 6 years is getting as close to God as I possibly can. God remains my Rock as he shows me how to survive with a heart that was smashed on May 18, 2016. I spend many hours each week with my Bible open on my lap, listening and talking to God.

The amount of hours I spend with my Father will be going way up in May.

Miss you, Davey.

Love you.

On By Judy GlasserIn When the Worst Happens10 Comments

They Were Wrong

They were wrong.

I cannot tell you how many people told me “The first year is the hardest” after my son, David Glasser, who was a Phoenix Police Officer, was killed in the line of duty on May 18, 2016.

They were all wrong.

I had already lost my mom and my dad and my oldest brother along with all of my grandparents and all of my aunts and uncles….and yes, with those deaths, the first year was the hardest.

But it has not been true with the death of my son.  The first year was the most confusing and unpredictable and foggy.  But each year since then, the hole in my life has grown and all I have lost keeps accumulating as Davey continues to miss his children growing up, he misses getting to know new little members of our family, and misses Christmases and birthdays and Mother’s Days.  Every year there is more.

I’m gradually getting used to the growing hole and the lengthening list of things I have lost.  But it’s not easier.

I think the big difference between my older loved ones dying and Davey being killed is I had expected that there would be a time in my life where my father and mother and older brother and others would not be here.  That is the correct order.  It was going to happen.

But Davey was always supposed to be here.  Every thought of my future included him.  Pictures in my mind of me growing old all included Davey and his smile.  Every future celebration, every milestone, every fun family get together and trip included Davey.  Now he’s not here…..and all that I have lost grows.

So, do me a favor.  Don’t tell a parent who has lost a child that the first year is the hardest.  It’s just not true.

Miss you, Davey.

Love you.

On By Judy GlasserIn When the Worst Happens8 Comments

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.

On By Judy GlasserIn When the Worst Happens4 Comments

He’s Missing

It’s a constant issue.

Somebody is missing.

It’s a tall somebody who was always adding a lot of fun and laughs to whatever was going on.

A man of faith whose integrity and character clearly showed through the decisions he made in his life is missing.

He’s missing right this instant as November looms in front of us. My son, David Glasser’s birthday. He’s missing it …. again.

There’s a hole in our lives that will never be filled.

Sometimes people use the word ‘heal’ when they’re talking to me about Davey being killed in the line of duty and I can’t relate.  There’s a hole.  It’s not going to heal over into a scar and fade away.  Not in this lifetime.

So we’re figuring how to move forward with the hole. 

My grandson, Davey’s son, is in high school now. He was 5 when Davey was killed. Micah is doing great in school and Davey would be so proud of him. Davey loved learning and figuring things out.  He had a double major in college of Psychology and Criminal Justice.  I will never forget when he was studying juvenile delinquency – he told me that a working mother was the highest indicator that a kid would become a delinquent.   Because I had been working full-time at first getting my degree and then my career since before he was born, I thought this was very interesting.  So I asked him with a smile, “Well, what happened to you?”

That led to a in-depth conversation about how it’s not mother’s working that’s the issue – it’s the faith and values and priorities of those mothers along with the fathers that has the biggest influence on the child.

Davey told me many times how frustrated he was with the fact that many parents today use the police as the bad guys with their children.  “If you don’t behave, the police will come and arrest you.”  Really?  What happened to parents disciplining their children and parents teaching their children to respect authority and the rules?  Is it just easier to wait until they are 15 or 16 and let the police handle it?  Policemen spend a lot of time parenting kids whose parents aren’t do it.

The life of a cop. He was a great cop….and he is missed.

He was a great son and brother…and he is missed.

He was a great husband and father….and he is missed.

He was a great friend and squad member….and he is missed.

There’s always going to be a hole.

Miss you, Davey.

Love you.

 

 

On By Judy GlasserIn When the Worst Happens4 Comments