My mother, Deon Merrill Lewis was killed shortly after 1:00 on Friday May 23rd 2014.
She was headed home from a women's church function and was on the phone with my father. A man, high on synthetic marijuana (K2) was driving recklessly. He became impatient with the car in front of him and when he couldn't pass the car on the right because there was no shoulder, he crossed over the median into oncoming traffic hitting my mothers car head on and killing her instantly. Her phone call with my father just dropped. He didn't hear a scream, a crash, or anything. My mothers car spun 360 degrees and ended facing the opposite direction in the other lane. The accident happened at one of the entrances to my neighborhood.
My father had been chatting with her first about all she'd done at her women's meeting and they'd begun to talk about their plans for the rest of the day. Friday's were her day off and their date night. They were going to go to Chipotle and split a burrito and possibly go see a movie. When the call dropped, usually my mom was the one who would call my dad back. She didn't. So he tried her a couple of times with no answer. Time passed. He wondered if she had stopped off someplace that he wasn't aware of. After about 30-45 minutes he became concerned enough to go look for her. He made a sign that said, "Deon, I've come to look for you." and taped it to the deep freezer in front of where she parked her car in the garage.
When he opened the garage, he saw two law enforcement officers coming up the driveway. They asked him if he knew Deon Merrill Lewis. He responded that it was his wife. They told him, "I'm sorry sir but she is deceased." He immediately cried out 'NO! Are you sure?" They responded that they'd gotten it off the drivers license, They asked him if there was anyone that could come be with him. "No." he replied. "They're all gone."
It was Memorial Day weekend. I was in Boston at Joseph's wedding with my family. Pear and Chrissy had gone to visit her aunt for the weekend. Ben lives in Japan, Aaron lives in Ohio.
So my dad called one of his best friends, Lance Dowd, who was also away at a paintball activity with his grandsons. News spread to his wife Joanie who had just been with my mom at the church function. She and another woman, Laura Mazola, came to sit with my dad. Word began to spread, the police had notified next of kin so her name was released to the public.
I was with my family in Boston for the wedding of Joseph and Liz. That day we'd been at the Boston Children's museum and the children were having a wonderful time. Near the end of our time at the museum, I got a call from my dad. I answered, but I only heard rustling, it's not unusual for my dad to "pocket dial" me (or have his phone accidentally call me while in his pocket) so I ignored it. About 20 minutes later we've left the museum and are hiking the mile back to our car which was parked at the Boston Common.
If you've ever been to Boston, you know that it's a walking town, traffic signals are a suggestion and if you can make it on foot across a street you do. Stephen and I have 4 little kids. I've got Matthew (sometimes in my arms, sometimes by the hand) bringing up the rear and Stephen is at the front with our other 3 in between. It's at some point on this walk that dad tries to call again. I can't talk then, it's not safe. I make a mental note to call him when we get back to the car and turn my phone off.
When we arrive back at the car, I've forgotten. We're in a mad rush to all change into clothing appropriate for the wedding rehearsal to be held at the church. We're taking turns changing in the car (first girls then boys) and giving our kids a snack since we don't know when we'll eat again. Then we're off to go find this church at Boston College, manuvering in an unfamiliar area.
We arrive at the church, go through the rehearsal, and it's all fine. It's over and it's about 6:00. Stephen's phone rings. It's Greg Furness, a friend and a member of our "ward Bishopric" or clergy. Stephen answers and Greg immediately starts sending his condolences. Stephen has no idea what's going on and say so. Greg says, "Melissa needs to call her dad." Stephen gravely looks at me and says, "Something is wrong, you need to call your Dad." I use his phone and call my dad.
My dad immediately picks up the phone. I'm already a bit emotional and I ask him what's wrong. He tells me he has some very hard news to tell me. He says "
Your mother was killed today in a car accident." I scream, I cry, I start to run. I run out of the church, I'm hysterical. Stephen catches up to me and is trying to find out what's wrong. "My mom is DEAD!" I scream. He wraps his arms around me and hugs me. I'm sobbing. My dad is trying to give me details of what happened, I'm not hearing any of them. I'm so sorry I'm not there with him. I tell him, "I should be there, why am I not there? I'm so sorry I'm not there!"
He tells me he doesn't want me to come home early, he wants me to keep my plans in tact, to attend the wedding and come home as planned. We'll wait to have the funeral in a month when Ben and Summer will be coming.
Someone (a friend of Liz') has whisked my children off into their car in the parking lot. The McKneely family had already left to go to the restaurant for the dinner. Joey and Liz are there, they start encouraging us to do what we need to, they understand if we all need to just go home.
I am numb.
My children are brought to me, they can tell I'm upset. I tell them that their Grandma Lewis was killed in a car accident. The 3 older ones start to cry. It's hard to watch your children grieve. We somehow all get into the car. Kaitlyn is immediately concerned about our family history, and who will tell us about her family? Who will continue what we'd started?
SIDE NOTE:
Back in December, I'd felt impressed to start getting my children involved in Family History work. They're too young to index or do actual work, so I thought about inviting their grandparents to prepare their life stories and take turns telling my children about their lives. So over the months leading to her death, we'd been doing this. My dad went first, then my mom, then my dad talked about his dad. We didn't know how well these would go over, but my children LOVED it, it kept their attention long after we thought they'd last. AND because they have children not locally, we'd taken the efforts to record it. What a treasure, and one of my first thoughts after learning of her passing, I am so so so grateful I'd listened to that prompting.
Sam asks if Grandpa is going to get remarried. I tell him I don't think so, he loved grandma so so much. "Good!" he said, "I don't want to be in any more weddings!"
Then it hit 4 year old Matthew, who hadn't understood until that moment. "Mom, is grandpa going to be ALONE?" "Yes honey." "But I don't want Grandpa to be alone!" Then his little face contorted into the saddest face and he began to wail.
Stephen is pressing me for where do I need to be? Back where we're staying alone? Or go on to the dinner? The kids are hungry, I need to be with my McKneely family, we decide to go to dinner.
On the drive over, I start texting President Jones and Bishop Haas, both of whom were with my dad when I called. I asked them to take care of him please, since I can't be there.
We arrive at the restaurant. I'm trying not to make a scene but there really is no way around it. Mom McKneely gives me a hug. She tells me that she will do her best to be like both my mom's until I can be with my own one again. Laura gives me a hug and tells me how sorry she is, and in that moment I realize she knows what this feels like since she lost her mom too young too.
I am getting texts by the second. I feel the need to respond to each of them and it's overwhelming. Stephen wisely takes away my phone, he's trying to do what's best for me. But then my dad calls. Ben has found that the American Red Cross will pay to fly him home in this case. We decide to hold a funeral the following weekend.
I don't remember much at the dinner. Susan made me eat some soup, I'm not hungry.
We make it back to Liz' mom's house where we'd been staying. Carl and Stephen give me a blessing. I am a mess. I go downstairs and try and get some sleep. I don't sleep much.
It's early, I call dad. He's awake too. I ask him to explain the accident to me again. He does and it clicks that it happened at the entrance to my neighborhood. After we get off the phone, I log onto Facebook and look at my neighborhood page. The accident was well documented.
'Bad Accident on Stacey, rerouting traffic through LCR"
"Looks really bad"
"Praying for the family involved"
"Careflight has been called"
"Doesn't look like Careflight is needed"
Then a friend posted that the victim's daughter is an LCR resident. A bombshell to my neighborhood.
Everyone shifts their focus, dad has been notified so they release the name to the press and on the police scanner. Some of my friends post that they know that daughter. I decide to put the guessing game at bay and thank everyone for their well wishes and prayers.
Then on my own wall I link the article Aaron had found online about the accident and write about how it's hard to find the words and that the hardest thing is not being there.
