SAFETY HARBOR, Fla. — Laura McCullough often thinks about a poem her son Devon Grimme wrote when he was 12 years-old. 

“The ocean greets any stragglers with open arms, as remote and desolate as it may be, there is always endlessly more. The ocean cannot be measured, as eternity cannot be measured," recites McCullough. 

She thinks of those words as she walks through Folly Farm Nature Preserve to the wind phone. 

“I always dial 808. Hawaii’s area code," said McCullough, as she picks up an old, brown rotary phone and dials the numbers. 

She is here to talk. 

“I just want you to know how much I miss you, how much you are loved," said McCullough. 

This phone is not connected to any line. The idea is for the wind to carry the message said aloud to a loved one no longer here. 

In McCullough's case, her message is for Devon. 

“Mommy loves you," she says with a heavy sigh, and then hangs up.

Almost immediately, the wind chimes in nearby trees begin to ring softly as the breeze ever so slightly increases. 

McCullough takes this as a sign Devon got her message. She admits, her grief for her son is very hard to bear. 

“Grief is so physical, and it’s so heavy, and no one tells you it’s like walking through quick sand. Your shoulders, you can hardly stand up some days," said McCullough. 

Devon died back in 2015, at 27 years-old. 

“This was his first time at the beach," said McCullough, pointing to an old scrap book with baby pictures of Devon. "He was only three months old. Water baby. He was so sweet.”

As she goes through some mementos, she thinks back to getting the news of his unexpected death. 

"My first thought was to kill myself," said McCullough with tears in her eyes. "Because I just wanted to be with him. You just want to be with your kid, you would do anything. I just wanted to hold his hand, and just be there. Mommy will help you.”

With her husband's help, McCullough made it to the next day. She then attended grief groups in the months and years following his passing. She even made a website in his memory, and to keep his legacy alive. 

But even all those things could not contain her sadness. 

Then in 2021, she learned about wind phones. She then helped get one installed on Folly Farm in Safety Harbor. 

The phone is used often. 

“I love you my beautiful boy, and I will think of you each day. You have a great one, bye," said Mary Jo Baynum. 

On the day she called on the wind phone, it was exactly seven years since her son's death. 

“The wind chimes have picked up a little bit since I sat here. Not a lot but a little bit," said Baynum. 

like McCullough, she sees and feels signs of her son's presence wherever she goes. 

“I’ve told you, Devon comes through all the time for me, he is amazing," said McCullough. "I keep thinking is that real? Come on, ya know. Am I just a grieving mom? But it’s just so real.”

Real, and cathartic for McCullough. 

Next to the phone is a small, black chalk board. Many choose to leave messages on the board after their calls. 

“Just because someone is gone doesn’t mean the relationship is over. It’s just a way to connect," said McCullough. 

Chris Dotson is the artist who designed and built the wind phone. 

From the white lattice, to where it sits for privacy, he worked hard to make each detail peaceful for people who come to use the phone. 

Dotson said seeing the help it's brought so many people these last two year has really been incredible. 

“You go in there and you see the messages, hi mom, or we still love you, and we still miss you and things of that nature. It’s very rewarding," said Chris Dotson, Artist & Safety Harbor Garden Club.

All the materials and phone were donated, mostly by the Safety Harbor Garden Club.