By Vanessa Hewitt
On May 17, 2024, my life changed forever. The day started off normal, I went about the morning as I usually do. I ended up going to a couple local garage sales with my boyfriend to pass the time I had that morning. We just pulled in front of our third or fourth garage sale when I received a text from my mom saying to come home.
As an already anxious person receiving an ominous text with no context, I was going through all of the possibilities on the way back home. Even the worst-case scenarios in my head did not account for the news I was about to receive.
I walked into an empty home and was stuck waiting for my family to arrive for several minutes. Once they arrived, they urged me to come into the garage where my mom, dad and little sister stood waiting for me to join them.
My mom then opened the garage door, letting an Ottawa County officer and my older sister’s boyfriend into the room with us. I still couldn’t come up with a logical reason for what was happening in my head.
It was silent for a couple moments and then my mom blurted out “Devin died today” and it’s hard to describe what happened after that. I remember falling to my knees and screaming “No she didn’t” over and over again. The officer kept telling me to breathe, but it felt like I was choking on my mom’s words. My mouth felt numb, my hands felt numb, I felt numb.
My sister was the most dependable person in my life. She always knew what to say, what to do. I wanted nothing more than to ask her what to do at that moment.
As I sat on the ground, trying to stop myself from shaking, the officer asked me and my younger sister if we wanted to know what happened.
“It was instant, with the way the car was,” he said. “I know she didn’t feel any pain.”
I couldn’t stop shaking my head in disbelief. How was this the reality for my family? She was 28 and had so much life left to live. I couldn’t stop asking why, and since then I have learned that it will never make sense.
I’ve heard sayings about good people dying young and I didn’t really believe that until Devin was gone. Her kindness stuck with so many, and she was such a beautiful person. When it came time for her funeral, there was hardly enough room in the chapel for everyone.
In the weeks after her death, I received an abundance of messages about how my sister changed people’s lives. I got to hear many stories and really see that she didn’t just make an impact on me, but nearly everyone she knew. She always made an effort to spend time with me and just be there for me all the time. After she died, I learned that it wasn’t just me that she was there for.
Devin was a lot older than me and my younger sister Alanah. Our age gap alone was 9 and a half years. That in no way stopped her from creating an unbreakable bond between us three. When we were younger, she planned special trips to take us on. One of my favorite places she took us to was Frederik Meijer Gardens & Sculpture Park. She joked about one day having a bench there when she died.
She taught me so much in the short time we had together. One of the most important is what she taught me about living. Devin did not just exist on this earth, she lived every day.
When Devin was alive, she was always doing something. You could not hold her back from doing whatever it was that she wanted. She had a “30 before 30” bucket list and she always made time to check boxes off. She traveled out of the country, moved to Florida where she worked at Disney World and she created a TikTok and an Etsy account to sell her crocheted work.
I helped her create the script for her audition for the “Survivor” franchise and watched as she jumped from a plane (not once, but twice). That being said, Devin still had the antics of an 82-year-old woman. She owned multiple knitting machines, frequently watched shows like Jeopardy and she once told me she read “The Host” by Stephanie Meyer, a 619-paged book, in one sitting.
She was and still is so inspiring. I hope to be courageous like her, I want to live life like she did and stop waiting to do the things I’ve put my mind to. Being here without her encouragement, however, has been the hardest thing I’ve dealt with in my life.
As soon as I turned 18, Devin made an appointment for us to get matching tattoos of a frog talking on the telephone. I talked about getting a tattoo for years before that but when she told me she made that appointment, I was anxious about it for weeks. The only thing that made me feel calm was the fact my sister would be there and it would be something we could cherish together, forever.
The day she died, I couldn’t stop staring at my arm. I kept wishing she could hear me somehow through the telephone pricked onto my skin.
I try to stay positive through it but I am not sure how I will live the rest of my life without her. This has changed me in more ways than I can describe. I have an entirely different outlook on life now. I drive extra carefully and I’ve begun to notice how fragile life really is. I notice how often death shows up in the news and it seems like there are more crosses and memorials alongside the road than before.
Our family has planned a lot of things for my sister, we lit lanterns for her, went to her favorite restaurant on her birthday and had necklaces made of her fingerprint. One thing in particular that we made sure to do was something my sister talked about quite often. Thanks to all of the people Devin made an impact on, we were able to raise enough money to get that bench for her. Devin told multiple people that Frederik Meijer Gardens would be a perfect place for people to laugh, share stories and cry about her when she went. I am so thankful that she will get her wish.
Her bench will be in a beautiful place, in remembrance of her beautiful soul. There will forever be an aching hole in my heart without my best friend. I will never forget all she taught me, and the light she shined everywhere she went. I will miss you for the rest of my life, Devin Renee Garcia.
