Slow process

It is a long slow process working through the loss of Devon.  To tell you the truth, every time I hear a train or see one, I can't help but think of Devon.  This is much like Pepa shaking his empty tea glass of ice or just holding up an empty coffee cup.  When I see or hear one of these, I can't help but think of Pepa.  Similarly, when I hear a certain song at church or something the Potbelly Boy's sang, or if I see someone pursing their lips with a finger held over them, I think of Fred.  With Terri, it is a contagious laugh or the mention of chicken spaghetti.


Sometimes, it is a small world indeed.


Memama and I have often talked about "exposure" for tragedy increasing as the size of the family increases.  We had been fortunate in 1985 with Chris.  We weren't as fortunate with Devon.


Jason, Christie and Dillon went to Louisiana last week to retrieve Devon's personal belongings left at the hotel.  They said the room had a notice posted and had not been disturbed.  When they walked in all the lights were own, television on, lap top on, personal cell phone on the charger.  It was almost as though Devon had run a quick errand and was coming right back.


The investigation will drag on several more weeks as more and more questions pop up.  Originally speed was thought to be a factor.  People involved in the process now say Devon was running 74 miles an hour at impact.  It took less than a half second to come to a stop..  Also the truck's position is in question.


Only one person knows exactly what transpired, and it is a real possibility we may never know exactly what transpired the final minutes of Devon's life.


Has it affected the family?  Profoundly.  Freemans are made up of generations of drivers who pride themselves in their abilities.


Yesterday I was driving Memama to Dallas for eye doctor appointments and I realized I was much more cautious in my driving.  Watching the other guy, allowing other vehicle's more space.


One conversation Memama and I had was about being organ donors.  I am one.  It is easy, you can make it known on your driver's license.


If we had to lose Devon it would have been a good feeling to know some people benefited with his death.  An eye, a kidney, who knows.


FATHER, we ask that you continue to heal our hearts.

Heartbroken

Each year since Freddy has been gone, I have written him a letter.


In the early hours of May 29, we lost Devon in a car wreck near Baton Rouge, Louisiana.  Needless to say we have all been in shock.


I have repeatedly opened my blogger account and just sat there staring at a blank page.


Dear Freddy,


I can only imagine your surprise, when Devon walked in.  We are heart broken.  We are shocked/  We are hurting. 


I am sure you and Devon have lots to talk about.  Lots of catching up.  I will let him bring you up to speed this year.


I love you and miss you!


FATHER, heal us.