When Freddie was two, he had surgery. The doctors stated he would live perhaps a year. He wore a superpubic tube to drain the urine from his bladder. The bag was strapped to his leg. Every other week, his dad and I traveled from Waveland, MS to Jackson, Ms to see his urologist to have the tube changed.
Freddie was such a happy child. Back then there were no seat belt laws, therefore, he stood between his dad and me and sang his songs. The words he made up; his angelic little voice croning words we did not understand; he stood smiling at us; looking outside the car window at the world. unaware that his life would be so short. He sang.
The words were his alone; the melody was other worldly; the joy on his face, the light in his eyes as he sang, was pure. His soul brightly shared his melodies with us. He sang his songs.