balaaah humbug

*********************************************************************************************************************Your all thinkin it, balaaaaaaah humbugI had hoped to find a littel more ho ho ho but the tank is running on empty.Theres A numb spot were joy should be. Dad asked for Adem and Anvil a few times Im glad he got to know them .
One year my 12th lets say we had what would be are best criss mass surprise.Hints were given 8 wheel drive ,1o,000 lbs at least,red ,the hints kept coming but I had no idea maybe a monster truck .It was dad it was grate it was the perfect criss mass suprize. god bless all and good nite

Christmas with Ray

I must confess to being disappointed with how few memories I have of Christmas with my Father. I wish that I had more. I would like to know what he liked about Christmas. What traditions did he most admire? Did he like eggnog? What types of cookies? Fudge? Did he like trimming the tree? Did he put lights out around the house? What did he think about mid-night mass? I’m guessing he might have had biscuits and gravy on Christmas morning but I don’t know. I don’t have enough memories about him at Christmas. Can you share – please? Tell me a story about Ray at Christmas. Give me this gift.

And for you… two Christmas stories of Ray - from me.

When I was a wee boy. Five, perhaps six. December was upon the land in upstate New York. A new young family in a suburb. Snow fell deeply and hushed the world and delighted the spirits of child and adult alike. The world sprawled out before me new and inviting. Christmas was just a day or so away. I charged into the waist deep snow. Endlessly I played, straining, wading, swimming, floundering, pressing on without restraint. It seemed like it was all day. More than a day - we played my friends and I, in the deep fresh snow. A deep and deserved rest ensued for strained and exhausted muscles.

On Christmas morning my small limbs protested. They would not work again – they pained me so. They had had enough and rest was imperative. How is a boy to make his way to the foot of the Christmas tree? My father lifted me from my bed and into his strong arms and transported me to the base of the Christmas tree. There I encountered presents I cannot recall, but the memory of being carried there will remain till my dying day.

There are just a few other memories, but I share this last one.

I try to teach my children that no amount of frustration, discomfort, anger, or sadness gives one the right to treat another with anything other than respect and love. This is a hard lesson. It doesn’t come to us naturally. It will take decades to sink in.

Some day I may share with them the following story of Ray at Christmas to help them with this lesson. My Father was a gentlemen. A true gentlemen is not inconstant. It is an essential character. It is a principled stance of being in the world. I knew this about my father and still I was reminded again on December 24th 2007. As he moved with certainty and swiftness toward his death he was a gentleman. Although he was in pain and faced the ultimate frustration of death that could not be forestalled any longer, he was sweet and kind to the nurse who aided him. He spoke kindly to him. Please… and thank you, Jin (his nurse). I was so impressed, and yet unsurprised.

And what were the last words I heard my father speak to me? At 11:47pm December 24th 2007, my father awoke. He awoke from a morphine slumber at the edge of death. He awoke as one does after having slept through the alarm. Ahh!! I’m late there is much to be done. I have overslept!

Becky and I were at his side.

He seemed agitated. He wanted to get out of bed. He was dying but he wanted to get out of bed – he was confused, but he motioned to get out of bed. He had not been out of bed for many hours.. days? But up Up UP he arose, in the darkness of night. In an urgency and desperation incomprehensible to us. He arose and we held him by his arms by his sides – and onto his feet out of his bed he came! Standing a last time – standing on his feet – A MAN.

And then, he turned quietly, a gentleman, and to each of us and anyone else near he said “Merry Christmas”. These are the last words my father spoke. In spite of everything his heart was filled with charity and grace and he wished us, the world, Merry Christmas.

And in the morning he was gone.

Daddy, Thank you for holding on until I could see you and say good-bye.

Big Tub

In January of this year just after he had left this world, I dreamed of my father - a lot. I felt him, saw him, I heard his voice calling my name, and I visited with him – talking on a magic cell phone that let me call to the other side. It was comforting, most of the time – except on waking and realizing just how fantastic and removed from my daily existence this dream world of mime really was. And yet…

These dreams did retain a kernel of comfort in them. I was able to visit, to reflect, to be connected to him in some way. One of these dreams that was of particular comfort was the Big Tub.

Although he was stoic (as you’d expect) – there is no doubt that the final months of Ray’s life were uncomfortable. Painful even. Yes, I know from hearing his voice and seeing his face at times… the pain was intense. But it was more than this. It was the very natural struggle that we feel.. right down deep in the core of our biology.. the struggle for life. My Dad’s life force was strong. Despite being at peace with leaving this world, he fought on… as he also loved this world and the people in it. He was not going to let go early. And frankly this reminds me of how he would engage tasks that needed doing. He would put his shoulder into it and keep at it until it was done or he was done, one or the other. Mostly the former. And after a hard day’s work… I remember as a child that he LOVED a very very Hot bath. Sometimes I would go and chat with him while he steamed away in a bath, skin all red and “aaaahing“.

He also loved the outdoors.

So imagine if you will the comfort I felt when in deep slumber I saw him… my dead father. There he was in the dappled light, beneath a sprawling old oak, in a Big Tub - an old-fashioned white claw foot tub, in a steaming bath of hot water, looking out over a pasture of fresh spring grass and flowers. I took that in and in a moment – knew without a doubt that my father was at peace. So much better than the months or weeks that proceeded his departing this world.

It was some sort of vision of heaven. I saw the other side once when I was a child – I nearly died. The doctors had written me off. I saw something while I was there - almost dead. What matters is not so much what I saw, but what I felt. It was peaceful beyond words and I read that on my Dad’s face in my dream as he surveyed the sun bathed pasture around his steamy hot bath. I’m glad he is having a nice hot bath.. he deserves it.

Big Love

I have so many posts inside of me… some will never get out.. others percolate and keep reminding me that maybe I should find the time to put the words to ‘paper’. Big Love is one of those. When I flip through my iPhoto library and see the above picture it reminds me of my as yet un published Big Love post. And I think the time is apropos. This is kinda complicated… please forgive the length.

So Big Love means at least two things to me in relation to my Father. First, he had a Big Love, for this world, for its people, and especially for his family, near and extended. It was a quality that I admired and still cherish as a legacy that I hope to keep manifesting and passing on to others. Most notably - my children. I can tell you he was so pleased and proud when several years ago I explained that his grandchildren had given all their saved allowance (that was on the brink of buying a most cherished game they had been saving for – for months… ) to a Katrina victim, without a moments hesitation. I can see this quality in my brother Adem and my sister Reachle too. And I saw it in the quiet, steady, humble, and determined service of Clarence and Marie Boeckmann.

Once when I was a young man. My heart began to hurt me and I saw a doctor about it who took X-rays and examined me. He put the X-Ray on the wall and stood back beside me and said “Robert, you have a big heart.” I had two immediate thoughts: Gosh, what kinda condition am I suffering from? And once he assured me that my heart was healthy… just unusually large, I thought… 'I bet I get that from my Dad.' Turned out I only had a chest wall strain.. but I learned that my heart is large.. as my father’s no doubt was too.

So when I see this picture of him (here with a little girl in Guatemala) spreading his love around the world… and the joy (click on the photo to read that joy) that so obviously filled his heart in doing so, I am impressed, inspired, and proud. And I long to feel the warmth of his big love. I must content myself with the memories of it and the promise of it growing in the hearts of others who will share it in big ways when it comes to fruition in their souls.

But the picture also adds complexity to the Big Love idea… the second meaning of Big Love here for me goes something like this. My Father was great at making you feel special and appreciated when you were in his presence. Trouble is, for all the lionizing of him Adem and Reachle and I have done… well we didn’t feel his presence enough.

He (and his ex-wife / our mother) made some decisions when he was a young man that left us out of his presence for much of the year. We missed him, we longed for him. We hoped that we would see him more. Feel his Big Love in the immediate moment of his presence. It was not so apparent when we were apart. We could be assured of it in some abstract sense. But it did not feel the same.. this carried on – past our childhoods into young adulthood. And yet we were waiting. We were thinking that at some point we would get our due. Rightly or wrongly we thought this time might be in his retirement. But he found a new love in the Church at about this time, and well frankly we were a bit jealous and bitter. When he had the freedom to visit us and the grandchildren, he chose to have fellowship with his church family. When he could have spread his Big Love in Central America, or other service activities. I can still tell you I am still a bit Angry that when I invited my Dad to visit at spring break and go skiing with me and his grandchildren… he chose to go skiing with his church group instead. And yet.

There is another sense of Big Love that comes to mind here. It is the Big Love that parents must exercise with their children. That love that comes when a child pursues something that truly quickens them – that brings them joy and inspires them. And you feel that love, you exercise that love - by accepting and supporting that, in spite of how it may be unsatisfying – even contrary to your own wishes.

And so turning that around – as children sometimes do in the twilight years of their parent’s lives. I have tried to feel a Big Love toward how my father prioritized his church life and other aspects of his life ahead of my needs. That somehow takes the resentment, anger, and bitterness I can sometimes recall or even feel now.. and transforms it. It becomes a support for someone and something bigger than myself and that feels better – grander than being jealous and resentful for something that cannot be changed now anyway. I’m glad he had those priorities and that it helped him face his mortality with grace, dignity, and with a quiet rapture I read on his face and felt in my heart.

Merry Christmas & Happy New Year

I want to wish everyone a wonderful Christmas and a happy new year.

Uncle Paul

Redneck Resort

Madden Hole was a natural swimming hole located deep in the woods a number of miles from our home in Marche; a rather long hike to say the least. We would often frequent this “hole” on a regular basis in the summer just to cool off and have fun. Madden Hole was also a good place to camp and fish.
It was late one summer afternoon, after all of our chores were done that the four of us, Ray, Joe, Mark (adopted brother and neighbor) and I stepped out onto the gravely road in front of our home to begin the several mile hike to our beloved Redneck Resort locally known to our polish community as “Madden Hole.” However, today’s march to Madden Hole was more than just for a swim. Ray had proposed (a week or so earlier) we go on a two day camping trip with Madden Hole as our destination. We all were excited about his idea until he mentioned that we would just take the bare essentials for cooking food along with some fishing equipment. We would survive by catching or gathering our meals from the forest or fish from the waters of Madden hole.
So off we went, taking and jabbering about the upcoming two days. The question of food was a hot topic but Ray assured us we would not starve. Running along side and at time racing ahead were our two dogs, Curly and Michael. These two dogs were strays that over different times in the past appeared at our home. Their names somehow magically became part of their characters as each was adopted and became part of our childhood.
The march to the site traversed three long gravelly and rocky roads each ending with the other and each reaching out in a totally new direction. The eye of the late afternoon sun soon was glaring down on us. Our T-shirts displayed a cool dampness as if having been soaked in water as a result of our sweat pouring out like rain. The longer we walked the less we talked due to the dying heat of the summer day. The previous excitement expressed in the beginning had now gone up in flames in the heat of the long trek to Madden Hole. Each of us was lost in our imaginations looking ahead and immersed in the cool waters of Madden Hole. Finally, we reached the grassy trail that cut of the main road and led deep into the forest to Madden Hole. This old wagon trial lay like a snake through the thick woods trailing off into the distance before us. With the heavy foliage of the surrounding trees now providing shade, our excitement and chatter perked like water that reaches a boiling point as we began our final journey to this ole swimming hole.
We had just gone just a short distance when young a rabbit just ahead of us kicks up his heals in a rapid race to safety. Curly and Michael, the dogs, give chase and soon disappear into the wooded environment ahead with their bellowing howls echoing throughout the trees. It was not long before their baying became infrequent and sporadic indicating their loss of the rabbit. Soon both dogs were back with their tongues hanging out and panting for each breath, each having lost interest in a rabbit deep in a hole.
It was a welcome relief for all to see the ole trail finally ending at a large rivulet flooded with water from a storm of the previous week. The loud nosy water poured and splashed it way down the creek over or around the many large rock and boulders that refused to give up their position. We stopped for a minute to remove our shoes and socks and began wading in the knee deep waters. Ray began scooping up and throwing water balls at who ever was the closest to him. Thus began an all out war between all of us with water being the only weapon. It was truly moments of fun and laughter as we all welcomed the many exploding balls of water that seem to come from out of no where giving instant relief from the heat of the day. Suddenly realizing that the sun was now sinking towards the edge of our visible world, we quickly climbed once more into our shoes and made a mad rush for the camp site about two hundred yards away.
(to be continued)

Debris and Other Routes to Grief... (warning this is sad)

Well a casual observer may conclude that I am a bit of a pack rat or even a bit untidy, and there may be a bit of truth to that. However a deeper truth is that I have the heart of a poet, and I understand that things can transform into symbols, and that symbols can possess the magic to transport, to carry significant weights for the soul, and to connect across time and space. And so it is not by accident or coincidence or the lack of a trash can that I reach into my sock drawer this week and reveal that my hand was drawn to a scrap of history that takes me to a place I've been leaning towards in my mind all month. Several places...

One is standing in front of MD Anderson Cancer Clinic in numbed and relieved shock on Christmas morning talking to my kids on my cell phone saying that Grandpa is feeling better now and I will be home soon.

Another is sitting there at his side Christmas morning as his breaths spaced further and further apart, thinking of how he was getting closer to his God and marveling at how his face looked like a saint in an El Greco painting. Stroking that fine and noble forehead and clasping his hand that finally was releasing its firm grip that I recognized across the whole broad sweep of my life.

Or earlier when I knew the end was near. Standing in the school yard in the flat but bright light of a December afternoon. The last week of school before vacation. Waiting for the school bell and to pick up the kids. Standing there I called him at his hotel in Huston where he was staying for treatment - to say hi, to offer encouragement to check in, to say I'd mailed a package.

He answered. In pain. In fear. In quiet desperation. In a room alone far from home with only my voice. He didn't have the strength to be brave for me. My knees buckled imperceptibly - matching the sinking feeling in my gut, I measured the tone of my voice and did not let him understand that I appreciated the fear and pain in his voice. I knew before the doctors told him that it was over. I had been buoyed by Dad and Becky's optimism occasionally throughout the preceding months. I had ignored the statistics that said 95% mortality in the first 18 months, despite teaching statistics and knowing better. I had listened when he said come and visit after Christmas when we get back to Arkansas. But in a moment I knew better.

And the bell was ringing now and laughing and oblivious children were streaming out of the school... and mine would be swirling about in the torrent in moments. Compose compose. Grapple with the world spinning apart and yet swirling tight to the hearth of home all in the same moment. "Hey kiddos how was school today? Are you excited about Christmas vacation? Grandpa says "Hi" "

Every time I've passed the school this week - the last week before Christmas break - I think of standing there in the faintest of snow falls as the sound of my father's voice faltered in my ear and sent a chill through me deeper than any December ever has. I can't escape it. I'm not sure I want to. I drove past tonight and balled like a baby.

So many of these December memories are now over taking me. Like waves that do not relent - marching out of a darkened night sea and I feel that soon I'll be trying to catch my breath and I won't succeed.

It took me until July of this year to clear my desk of a lot of what collected there last November and December. I filed some away. Threw out a few things. But there is more debris I'm sure - things I know of things I will discover - a receipt for a taxi from the airport to the hospital. A mint. A napkin from the hospital cafeteria... A scrap of paper with one of many itineraries that may or may not have got me there on time. Broken wood from the barn he made by hand. A scar on my hand from the fishing knife he gave me as a boy.

A certain quality of my children's generosity or sense of justice. Some of the things I strain to teach them. These symbols will keep pulling me to a place of reflection and appreciation. Perhaps when I least expect it, but I trust always when I most need it.

now thats a big fish paul

1111111111111111111111111111111111
This is Brice Green he crewed for me this halibut season . I have all four boys home now that Adems back from collage. He had a blast and is ready for more in about a month.Anvil has stepped up his schooling and is interested in sports and is learning the guitar. Atlas is still goin a 100 miles an hour likes to dance and fight a little kongfu once in a while ( hes got a lot a Ray in him )Archer is 5 month now and after a slow start is growing like a weed(17 lb I think) and doin all the things that make a person smile.
I still am pretty mad about the whole dad die in thing, just sucks the could of beens keep kickin my but.

Happy Holidays!

Well guys....it's that time of year.
I'm finding it harder and harder now that Christmas is around the corner.
Dad would have gotten a kick out of my Thanksgiving excursions though...and I smiled a lot knowing as such.

I ended up driving to Eureka, OR with my boyfriend and spending it with his family. On the way back, we drove through an Animal WildLife Safari (yes, in OREGON...Winston to be exact) and had a blast watching the giraffe walk by our car and being stared down by a Rhino (like Jurassic Park...."Don't move...he'll know we're in the car"). I know Dad was laughing his butt off up there at us. (I'm not even going to mention the humping Elk or the crazy ostrich).

I also made an apple pie, from scratch, with memories of making them with Dad. (The secret is cream of tarter....shuuuush) It turned out damn tasty and I know he would have been proud of the 'awe' and silence as people dug in. You know it's good when everybody stops talking and concentrates on not losing a single crumb. lol

So...yeah....
I find myself wanting to yell & scream at work now, though, to drown out the Christmas music that started pumping through the speakers the day after Thanksgiving. It's just too soon.

How was everyone else's Thanksgiving? Any fun stories to share? :)


*Please forgive my absense in posting etc...I have extrememly minimal net connection and mostly get to check my email at work or at the library. I read the blog on a regular basis...I just tend to get all teary and blubbery when I attempt to write. It's a bit embarrassing in public places. lol

whats up dad

The last month or so I've found my self wanting to give dad a call. See how things are how the gardening went his Summer . Ask how he felt about the bail out of bad business. Tell him how the grandsons are doing .Talk about how good fishing was this Summer and how I felt him next to me when ever I was at my best. Then it hits me dads not goin to answer the phone any more . Some times I would call way to late and he would all ways answer he new it was me some how we would talk about the garden or the boys , politics , plans ,dreams

Your Country Thanks You

Tuesday was Veteran's day. I've always been proud of my Dad's service to our country but I could not help but feel just a bit more connected to it all when I flipped through the paper and saw a picture of a boy of 9 or so placing a wreath on his Dad's tombstone in a military cemetery. Every since Dad was diagnosed I've been back to my feelings as a boy and there I was again lost without him - yet proud. It took a long long time and I'm thankful for the blessing of that time. But in the end... yes he died in the line of duty - serving his country. I'm sure he was a hero in small ways.. and maybe even bigger ways than we may ever know.. but he did his best and served his country and died because of his service so although he may not been noticed in name in services, I still hope he was there in the thoughts and prayers of so many who said thanks to the men and women who serve and have died in service to our country. I guess this is also on my mind as Dad's flag from retiring from active service has been on my busy desk for the past month.. sitting silently with me each day...

persimmon memories

I received a couple persimmons in the mail yesterday and it got me to thinking about Dad. You see if you were to take a right at the end of the his driveway on a lovely fall afternoon on your way to visit Moses or just to get some fresh air you would pass a great, tall Persimmon tree. Dad would sing the praises of a ripe persimmon and proceed to determine if the persimmons were ripe as yet. I seem to recall one of the ways he knew they were ripe without getting a horribly puckered mouth was if he had seen the deer eating them. I like these memories of "Nature Dad" , like how he could tell if it was an armadillo with a slight limp that had crossed the riverbed or a raccoon hunting crayfish in the moonlight. And man could he locate any troll in any state under any bridge!!!

Leo

Here's little Leo at 4 weeks old! We're all doing great, getting used to functioning on less sleep.

I check the blog regularly, but don't post much. I can't really put into words why that is, but Rachel explained it well recently. I am thankful for those of you that have continued to post because I enjoy reading about others interactions with Dad. He certainly had a way with people, connecting with them over common and uncommon ground.

I feel connected with him even more through my son now. Granted, there is no physical resemblance like Adem's sweet baby, but I hope that there will be some hint of Dad through his words and actions, maybe his love of the outdoors or even greater, his love of others.

Rob had a beautiful collage made of picture of Dad, as my gift when Leo was born. It's all black/white pictures, framed in a black frame and hangs over the changing table. I kid you not, everytime I lay Leo on it, he just stares at it intently. My rational mind knows it is probably because all he can really see is contrasts right now, so the black frame against the light wall is easy to see.

My heart hopes it is because Leo recognizes something familiar...a distant memory of someone he met before he met me.

One more birthday post

I know we are a few days past Dad's birthday but I couldn't help adding this one.
This is Dad at his Last Birthday. In spite of being not too long out of a tough surgery and still facing an uncertain future, there is such genuine joy and enthusiasm for life's small pleasures here... I had to smile when Dana sent it to me. Thanks again Dana for helping make the Wii gift get to Dad in a timely way. I don't know how long or how much he played with it but I think it is clear he got a kick out of getting it.
Love to all
Robert

I see dad every where

Anvil and I went on a hunt yesterday a Little hike looking for birds .There was the rock pile Anvil and Adem made with dad (one of many). That triggered Anvil memories of hiking with dad on are mountain Anvil talked about some tea cups dad and he had found that may of been a 100years old.I feel truly blessed on dads birthday I see dad every where in my sons ,
they all have parts of dad that I admrie and respect. Happey Birthday dad thank you for my four gifts
love Adem

Happy Birthday Dad :)

Short and sweet:
We miss you lots -and love you more still.
I know that Christmas is going to be hard this year...but I didnt expect your Birthday to be.
:(
I'm singing to you anyways...
*hugs*

Haunting the blog, Neglecting the blog.

Ick ..Blog is not a pretty word.

Well anyway here is a post I have been meaning to write for months now. I look at the blog nearly everyday. Even when weeks go by without a post. I feel guilty for not posting. I still check in hoping to get a lift from another loved one's memory or idea about Dad. If it is anywhere between 6am and 7pm you can be sure that a child (or 3) will be at my knee or in my lap poking at the keyboard giving me ample excuse for not writing my own post. Even as I type they have trooped in one, two, three, abandoning the unexpected privilege of cartoons on a Friday morning.

SO why don't I write at 2am like Robert or after the kids are tucked in like Adem? In part I am lazy and also self concious about what I might manage to write (yes that is silly), but more profoundly I found an article a few weeks ago that explains a little how I feel when I try to write or think about writing. It said that they have discovered that for the brain remembering is like reliving. In light of this all the cells that triggered the happy feelings in my brain when say, Dad threw me over his shoulder ala Sack of Potatoes and carried me laughing to bed, should trigger those same happy feelings when I remember them. Instead I have been avoiding dwelling on thoughts of Dad because I unfortunately end up remembering those last months, weeks, days, hours. That said, there were some beautiful things about Dad's last days. Cherished memories tinged with sadness.

I am challenged to get my head in a better place because remembering is unavoidable and I don't really want to forget. I will take the time to think about and answer Adem's question about whether Dad had a tick that bothered me (wait a tick! is there a pun here somewhere?), or what my very first memory of him is, and Robert's question about what we had intended or would love to have done with Dad had he stayed with us a while longer.... you see, ouch , that hurts.

And here is a question of my own. What mundane thing makes you think about Dad everyday? Here are just two of mine, nearly every time I turn on the dishwasher I think about telling dad on his last trip here that I feel environmental guilt when I don't wash the dishes well and instead select the 2 hour wash option... weird, boring, yes yes but there is dad in my head daily. Also when I pump gas I remember as a little girl standing next to the pump breathing deeply and telling dad I liked the smell of gas. He scolded me away from the fumes and told me they were not good for me. So 3o odd years later I still think of this many many most times I pump gas. I guess Sherry Rae's Grape Fanta story might fall in this catagory.

yikes! I have half an hour to dress and feed my brood (and myself!) and get out of here.

love,
Reachel

Happy Birthday Grandpa Ray

Hello Everyone. My son Atticus is up early and candidly wishing his Grandpa Ray a happy birthday in Heaven. I love the way he has no borders and continues to talk to his Grandpa as if he could "skype" from heaven and by golly send some of those chocolate kisses down here already. On my own birthday earlier this month I had a good cry when I turned on my cell phone and realized that none of the 5 messages there first thing in the morning would be dad softly singing Happy Birthday to you.

Happy UnBirthday

Jennifer beat me to it with a beautiful post about grief, faith and acceptance. I was thinking on Ray's birthday yesterday in anticipation of today. I was wondering... when a person is in Heaven how does the birthday work? Is Ray 66 today? or is he going to turn 1 in heaven on December 25? Do you get a new Heaven birthday for when you entered heaven? I like to think of Dad having a birthday on Christmas... seems fitting for such a generous and gracious man. Or here is another possibility.. maybe a person has unbirthdays in heaven. Maybe Ray is turning 65 today and next October 17th he will be 64... and so on. I have always thought that babies come into this world as close to perfect and as close to god and they will be in life. So maybe in heaven you shed your earthly years bit by bit and get closer and closer to God... just a thought. In any event... I'll miss calling to wish him a happy birthday. I want my magic cell phone that I used to dream I had - the one I could call Dad on in heaven. In any event Dad.. I hope you can hear me when I say Happy Birthday and I miss you.
Love, Robert

Maybe this will help.....

Robert, Adem, Raechel, Sherry and Dana,

I wanted to let you all know that I am definately praying for all of you, especially tomorrow. I remember the 1st birthday of Cathy's after her death. It was very painful, as I am sure your Dad's birthday tomorrow will be for all of you. But I realized something a few months after Cathy died that has helped me tremendously with my grief. I truly believe without one single doubt that Cathy's time on earth was predestined by God to the exact time she passed. You see, my grief was compounded by my feelings of anger and resentment and bitterness about how and why she died. But after this realization, I thought, if her time on earth was predestined, then did it matter how or why she died? My family and I would often talk of "if only Cathy had done this"or "if only Cathy had done that" then she could have fought her illness and would still be here. Then it occurred to me, that if her time was predestined then it wouldn't have made a difference if she had just done something else to fight her cancer. I believe in my heart that if she had been proactive and fought her cancer and gone into remission and been cured she still would have passed that morning on October 9, 2006 by some other means. After I accepted this, somehow her passing wasn't quite as painful since alot of my pain was associated with how she died. I know that you all also are experiencing great pain associated with how Ray died and making your own "if only" statements. "If only he hadn't been in the Navy....he wouldn't have been exposed to the asbestos and he would still be with us." I believe Ray's time was also predestined and he, too, would have passed on December 25, 2007 whether or not he had been in the Navy. Knowing this helps me somehow accept God's plan for my life and that plan includes pain and grief and deaths of loved ones. ALL things work for the good of God and that Cathy and Ray's deaths were predestined by God for HIS good. Only God knows his plan and how all of our lives intertwine and work together for His good. I find comfort in knowing that Cathy and Ray's death had a purpose just as great as their lives had meaning. Not only did their lives help fulfill God's plan, but also their deaths. Maybe it is through Ray's death that someone else has truly begun their relationship with Christ and ONLY through his death. My separation and divorce from my first husband, Brad, was without a doubt the most painful longterm experience of my life. (I will spare you the grisly details.) I might venture to say even more painful than Cathy's death. Maybe. But I know without a doubt that it was ONLY through experiencing that extreme pain that I truly accepted Christ as my Savior and began my new life with Him. I know one had to go with the other and no other way. That was God's plan for my life here on earth. Although I never wanted to experience that pain and never wanted a divorce from Brad, I do take some comfort in knowing that I now have eternal life because of that experience. I also, now have a wonderful marriage with Jim and three more beautiful children, all whom were also predestined to be born. I guess what I am trying to say is that Ray's and Cathy's death are for the greater good of God's plan. Their death's are helping fulfill God's purpose in someone else's life. I know this doesn't erase your pain because it is a process you all must go through, but maybe my realization about Cathy will help EASE your pain a little, if only enough to help you endure this journey you are currently on. Know I love ALL of you and hope these days pass quickly and that God finds a way to bring you the comfort you need to endure them.

I am here for all of you.

Love your cousin,
Jennifer

P.S. I dont know John enough to write such personal thoughts to him, but I hope this helps him too in some way.

A dream I had....

I had a vivid dream a about four weeks ago, right after the birth of my son Oliver. It was a Sunday afternoon, while taking a nap, I dreamed that I was taking a nap and awoke to my phone ringing. I answered it and it was your Dad. He was so happy to talk to me and asked how the baby was and how I was doing. We talked about Oliver for a bit and he asked how everyone else was doing. I always remember him calling me Jenny. and he said "Hey Jenny, guess what? I have some news too." I said what, tell me. And he said "Raechel is going to have another baby!" and I said "Really! That is great news! When is she due?" And in my dream at that exact moment, I remember thinking in my head "Wait a minute.....how can I be speaking with Uncle Raymond? He died." and as soon as I thought that his voice became garbled and started breaking up when he was answering me as to when Raechel was due. and I said "Uncle Raymond! I cant understand you! You are breaking up!" Wait come back!" and his voice just faded away. I and woke up immediately and thought wow! That was wierd. It was so neat to hear his voice. It was so clear and I knew immediately in the dream it was him on the phone. B/c he said "Hey Jenny, how are you doing?" when I answered the phone. Anyways.....I dont know if my dream means anything or not but I felt compelled to call Raechel right away. Like he wanted me to tell her. So I tried calling her to tell her. So now, four weeks later I now had to write it in an email but I think she got the gist. I really wish I had gotten her that minute when I woke up, b/c I was so excited to tell her. It was like I has actually just gotten off the phone with him! It was so great to hear his voice.

Since that dream four weeks ago, I have had two other dreams just in the last week about Uncle Ray. I dont remember the details as much as the dream above but I know I dreamt of him because when I would awake, I would say, wow, I dreamt about Uncle Raymond again. It got me thinking, why? I have no idea when his birthday is, but I thought today, it must be in October and I was thinking the 16th in my head. Is that right? If it is, it would be a total guess and he put the thought in my head. Happy Birthday, Uncle Ray.

the first time I saw dad

Well the first time I remember seeing dad was on the beach . I had somehow separated from the group and climbed a tree to find everyone . I was 3 or 4 and if you knew me it was the norm for me to go missing . I fell and the fall knocked the breath out of me and there he was he picked me up and dusted the sand off me and we went to a station wagon (dad was found of the station wagon I remember a few of them)and everything was right in my world . does anyone remember the first time they saw Ray?

Ray Says He Loves You

Well folks I've been trying to get Ray's voice on the blog for a long while.. and I think I may have managed this time. After Ray and Becky's trip to Australia he and Becky made a tape for Aidan. A collection of songs - many original (Like "Rusty Ol' Car") or tailored to fit Aidan and Brynn. This is an old classic and it is just lovely to hear him say (sing) "I love you too". Also a bit hard where you hear him say he loves the wind in his face and life... Here is Dad on YouTube
Robert

In Their Eyes

Well the kids aren't talkin' much these days...
So I thought I'd share from the Grandkids... These two scans are writings that Aidan and Brynn made in January of 2008 ... probably about a month after their GrandPa died and when they were seeing their Dad cry every day. Brynn doesn't tell the full story she knows.. and in a Naive way managed to keep her distance from the subject by referring to him as a man called Ray.
Aidan also just mentions the drama of GrandPa dying as an aside.. but buried in there is something brewing because he didn't just make any old i-Movie (and he didn't do it with his friend Conner). Instead he made a very touching tribute video to his grandfather. I think I've figured out how to post the video online.. so that will probably be my next post. I'm glad that Ray has had two more beautiful grandchildren since he passed away but my heart aches because they and his other grandchildren wont know the glow of his strong and kind presence.
Robert
(PS: you may have to click on the pictures to read them)

Haunted

I saw Dad at the gym earlier this week. From behind. He was on the stair master. Worn white t-shirt, strong broad shoulders, wispy gray hair with just that bit of thinning so you could see his cute pink scalp a bit at the back there, and a bit of middle age paunch showing from round the sides. Oh, and yes he was quite sweaty of course, and I could see his glasses from that vantage point too. And the enthusiasm, the determination in climbing those stairs up and up and up... tireless - full of life.
The flash of recognition. The brief smile on my face. What's he doing here?!
Fleeting. Half a second it flickered. Maybe less but it lingered after I realized the cruel joke of it. This was no Houston. I felt no exalted sense of Dad's omnipresence. No... just the caustic sting of knowing I had not seen him and would not see him ever.

A few days later he was hanging around again. Not in that way... not actually seeing him but feeling him. I was climbing up Arctic Valley again. This time with both my kids - and I kept remembering Dad climbing up there with them too. I was turning to my left... there was the snow bank where he had a snow ball fight with them. Here was where he sat looking at God's creation with his grandchildren. How could this happen? Life is more fleeting than we realize, I guess. My strongest champion laid out long before I suspected he would slow down. At least he haunts my waking dreams, at times visits me at rest, and I hope lives in me in small measure.

Brother Paul's Vision

The top photo was taken by me on the way to your dad's home for a pot luck. The object in the sky above the telephone pole is not the moon. In the bottom photo that I have taken a second or so later of the same scene, the object has moved across the colorful rainbow to a position higher in the sky. Both of these were taken in late January of 2007. I had stopped to take a photo of a beautiful rainbow but not the one that you see in the photo. I took two photos of this celestial rainbow and then went on to Ray's. At the time we did not know the extent of Ray's illness and we had great hope of his returning to good health. Later at my home, I was shocked to see that the two photos that I took were not same as the rainbow that I saw.

I knew then that this was like many other communication I have received from the other side that Ray would be crossing over and coming home. ( I am in tears as I write this). It is the first time that I have shared this with anyone in the family.

Brother Paul Boeckmann (sent to Robert and posted by Robert)

NB: Note the difference between the first and second photo. The first is considerably darker and the object is just above a electrical/telephone pole. This is indicative that what you are seeing has a hidden message. The second photo is much lighter in context but taken a few seconds later. Note the position of the object. It has now crossed over the path of colorful light and is in the heavens. ( An enlightened state of consciousness)

Ididarod on cross country skis

Well the thing I wished I would of done with dad was to ski the Ididarod . It was his idea I foolishly dismissed as a Foley at the time . It would have been a three week trip across Alaska with dad talk about a screw up . I can still see him and hear his words Adem why couldn't we do that ? I said why don't we snow machine it ? he lost interest and we went on are day to day .The other thing we talk about was death this was shortly after Beckys dad died and he said he hoped to never have to experience a long slow death like he had seen . I suggested when his time came I would take him for the float trip to end all . We could get a raft and float the Yukon river and he could spend his last days in the wilds of Alaska . He asked what if I'm still a live when we got to the Bering sea I said well I guess we just keep on going to Russia . This picture is from on top of King Island its a short hike but nearly strait up he would of loved it one more for the dad wish list Robert .

adem

artic breeze

Its nice to be home , we were welcomed home with warm harts an a cool Arctic breeze. I'm hopping to run threw the gear tomorrow or Wednesday,the crab pots are hopefully full after the break to have Archer kRay,we sure could use a big pay check from the sea. Did anyone pick Kenny Rogers for dads look a like? I heard a song from the Gambler today and I remberd dad was a bit of a look alike and a big fan. Archers getting a lot of milk and sleep he still acts a littel like he was still in the womb ,he curls up in a ball when he sleeps, he may have dads hair but the eyes are goin to be blue I think. Adem Kougarok is allmost done with Udoc a colage prep cource

and will come home for two weeks for some moose hounting and to crew on are boat for the halbut season. He said the Udoc is grate and has been a real asset THANK YOU UNCLE BERT.

Avils almost as big as me and has started to fill his big brothers shoes as #2 man of the house. Atlas is a real fource every one love him and hes tacken to being a big brother in Atlas stile ,both feet and running. Thank god for my wife she has givven me four perfict boys without skipping a beat she is well and resting. good nite and good fishing Adem pual

Just Do It - With Dad

Ok Dana and Adem have thrown down a few good interactive posts in the past. A challenge to engage. Well here is mine. I thought of it a while back. Yeah, I think it was Huston. =-{
Tell us something that you have done or never got around to doing that you would like to with Dad. Here are some examples. For me – well we never got to hike Resurrection Pass like we planned to. Or raft the Colorado river. Or like I've done before, I’d like to go on a quiet morning of fishing out on a lake just the two of us – and maybe catch nothing at all. Or go on a day hike with him and my kids again. Every hike I’ve taken my kids on this summer he’s hung around in my thoughts taking deep breaths of the mountain air, smiling and looking about in deep appreciation like the last time we went hiking with the kids.
So what is it that you want to do again – or that you never got around to doing?
Do tell.


PS: Adem, you asked us about something Dad did that bugged us… well one for me was his wild eye – the one that went round and round while he chewed – that used to creep me out. It bugged me less when I got old enough to screw up the courage to ask him why it did that. Seems like it became less pronounced as he got older. You know something wild. Just the other day I got a haircut and while looking at myself in the mirror at home… a chill went up my spine because I saw that eye – his eye looking back at me. It wasn’t moving around or anything – its just that one of my eyes seemed to be his and he was looking at me. It was really weird. I thought I was insane for only about 20 seconds but maybe you all know differently.. =-)

Thanks for Dying in Houston Dad

It was a frantic time there in late December trying to get a flight out of Alaska to Houston. I was on the phone for countless hours trying to get a flight. Night after night I slept fitfully on the cold floors of the airport hoping to get on a flight on standby. In the end I got not one but two flights. One that got me there the day after Christmas and one that got me there the day before. The first one I bought got me there on the 26th the second one I bought (with a different carrier) got me there when I needed to be there. So here is the irony – why I thanked Dad for dying in Houston. I had a nearly 2000 dollar ticket on Continental to spare – and Continental flies through Huston on the way to Costa Rica. So Mischell and I went to Costa Rica this summer. I didn’t really notice on the way to Costa Rica but on the way back we had a 6 hour layover and it all started flooding back. “Will I make it in time?” “How far is the Hospital?” “Does he know how close I am?”

Mischell was taking a nap in a chair and I wandered the big airport alone. I had a great trip to Costa Rica so I said quietly “Thanks for Dying in Houston Dad” while looking up into the air above me. Then I started looking in earnest. Where was he exactly? Up there? A little higher? In a particular place or more spread out? Where is heaven? Even as a child I was disappointed with the rather earthly vision of heaven as a place with pearly gates and streets paved with gold. What was with all the riches? Didn’t Jesus overturn the money changer’s tables and rebuke them for valuing earthly treasures? So that vision of heaven must have been a typo I think… an error or human transcription. So as I my feet slowly traced the countless footfalls of travelers before me I pondered the possibilities. Heaven is supposed to be up. Not down. But how far up? Is it enough that it isn’t down? What if it was right here beside us and we just can’t see it most of the time or ever? Where do they say God is? In Heaven - that is one answer. Another one is that he is everywhere. So where does that make Heaven? So slowly my face, turned up to the sky as it was, began to settle on the plane that I was walking. I thought maybe if Dad is in heaven he isn’t in one place far above me but all around me. I remembered a song I listened to with him – just months before, in my favorite movie about St. Francis. “… Love is all around you…”. Then I saw him and smiled. She was about 4 years old with a look of wonder on her face as her stroller glided across the mirror smooth linoleum. She was captivated by the patterns changing on the floor as her chariot carried her effortlessly along. And there, a middle aged man in a Hawaiian shirt with a bit of a paunch studying the schedule of departures in a solid stance. And the mother lovingly putting the errant curl of her 10 year old daughter’s hair behind her ear. A young black man with a brief case making a call, busy reaching for goals, plans, and excited about the future. An old man playing with a grandson in the way only children can. A plant reaching for the light. An old woman with a serene face and a quiet smile greeting the river of humanity passing by. The light spilling in the high windows setting it all a glow. I was comforted by this vision of Dad in heaven all around me and that light caught the tear of happiness and sorrow as is it rolled silently down my face and I wondered if heaven was standing there in me too.

His Father's Son

I’ve been meaning to post this for quite a long time. In fact my heart has sung at least a dozen pages for this blog and my fingers have felt too tired or inadequate to the task of writing the score. As time passes I hear each song less clearly and my initial suspicion that something will be lost in translation becomes a rock solid belief. But… Adem and Reachel both pestered me this week about how I haven’t contributed to the blog in a long while. So here is one.
Early this spring I had the pleasure to visit with Adem and his family in Nome. They were gracious hosts and I felt the warmth of home while far away in a cold dark land. (Thank you). I was there in an official capacity to learn more about the community and so I met with a lot of people and wandered about momentarily insinuating myself into the lives of all manner of local folks. I also traversed the community with my brother Adem, worked by his side… and I saw Ray Boeckmann there in Nome. I saw him in the eager smiles of welcome extended to Adem where ever he went. I saw him in the generosity Adem showed to the people of his community. In how he watched over the vulnerable and guided young people. How he shouldered his work with enthusiasm and with a sense of play and adventure. And I saw him in the kind words and respect showed for Adem when I spoke with the townsfolk. He is indeed his Father’s Son. Adem has a great respect for his father and would like to live up to his standards, yet I don’t think he realizes how close he is to the mark. Nor does he appreciate that you don’t have to be Ray Boeckmann to fully honor who he was.

Archer Kray Boeckmann

The Legacy Continues!
born 3 weeks early and tipping the scales at 9lbs on Sunday morning, July 20th. Welcome little one.

:::sigh:::

I miss you, Dad.
It's becoming less and less of a 'sad' missing you...which I know you'll be happy to hear!
I tend to smile more now- instead of always feeling the tears fall.
Don't get me wrong, I still have my moments of utter despair. It just hits me out of the blue at times- like when I picked up a bottle of grape soda at the gas station the other day.

I remembered that, at one point, you loooooved grape soda. So I bought a bottle for the heck of it.
. . .
It seemed like I wouldn't stop crying in the car on the way home...but it turned into a bit of a sheepish grin after several miles, realizing that you were probably up there getting a big kick out of me remembering the soda after all these years.
And just in case you were wondering, yeah Dad...it was darn good. :)

More often than not, though, I enjoy reliving memories with you rather than anguishing that I will never hear your voice again.

The other day, I stopped along a quick hike with a friend to pick blackberries. Scratching my hands & arms all up, I couldn't help but smile the whole time- remembering our blackberry picking side trips where ever we happened to find them. Horseback riding, walking around the 3 mile loop, or on the side of the road on the way to a service call. You could never pass them up!
I remember, Dad...I remember.

I know you would have loved all the berries I picked that day, both the sweet & the pucker-worthy tart. It was really nice to be able to share that with you, as you are now.

So...I'm still here. And you're still there. But that place in between is becoming more bareable for me to visit on a regular basis without worrying that I'll look like a crazy blubbering idiot in the WalMart isles. Then again...who cares if I look like a crazy woman in WalMart, of all places, right?!? :)

My point, is that I'm enjoying my time with you in my current life more and more through the memories that you've left us. I could never thank you enough for those. They're what's getting me though this, albeit slowly.

I smile more often than cry. And that's a start...

All my love,

one of your darling daughters, Sherry Rae

There was a time

This picture of dad reminds me of a time when he seemed so full of life. He must have been around 35 or younger. Life was good. Looking at him I realize how well he fit in in Connecticut. He could go anywhere and be welcomed, in the world. I can't understand how or why life threw so many trials his way. He was a good man, he deserved a good and long life with out all the crude putting it nicely. He looks like you sister swayco. Handsome, beautiful and so positive and to think the seeds of his fate had already been planted. I was still his son, not a child from another marriage, still the apple of his eye. I do like the memories from this time they are of happier man with out the baggage of a hard life. Don't get me wrong dad still shone brightly but it was a different light after we left Connecticut, for me anyways.

is that a slim jim or what?

I am still wishing one of me aunts or uncles will join in with tales of a younger Ray

Greedy Immoral Bastards

They took my Daddy away. Contracting to help our great nation by poisoning its loyal servants!? Ha! I want to grab their shirt collars and rage in their faces.
they made him suffer greatly and now that he is at peace - his life stolen from him
they make us suffer

happy father's day NOT

It sucks Ive been missing dad more lately seeing him here and there . The Robin is still around the house a lot, still all alone singing and a looking. Dad never seemed to worry about us kids,I remember getting lost for what seemed like for hours at a big fair only to have dad find me and give me a big hug. We would always do these reckless things like the rock quarry in Clinton Con. I'm not sure about it but it seemed like we would jump 50 feet or more ,only to climb up the cliff walls to jump again.He taught us how to dive with out getting hurt. A Friend of mine lost his 18 year old son a week ago. Pat was my Friend too a great kid who had no fear . Pat was out riding in the mountains and went off a cliff by accident he fell 600 feet , 4 seconds or so , into some rocks . It would seem I have some thing to be grateful for after all this father's day. The only thing that could be harder than dad dieing so soon would be to lose one of my boys before I go.

I hope every one is doing well Adem

Proud of His Lungs

As a child I was proud of my Daddy's lungs. They were special, extraordinary. I was certain that no other children's fathers had lungs like my Daddy's. I told you how we would walk out into the ocean. He would also take me underwater on his back and swim about until my lungs felt they would explode for want of fresh air then at my signal he would take me up to the surface... but sometimes he would not even come up for a breath and down we'd go again!

Most impressive though... what I was most proud of was a special feat he could do better than any of the other sailors and submariners in his unit. While we were on base in Hawaii, we would drive by or walk by this huge tower that looked like a grain silo I would look up to the top of it squinting into the bright sky with my child's eyes and be amazed at how tall it was. The first time we passed it he pointed it out and told me what the dive tower was for. Inside the tower which was more than a hundred feet high was water. Outside there were stairs and special doors - air locks) that could let a person enter the water at a certain depth. The Navy used this to train sailors to make an ascent from the deep. He would go in there and take a bunch of deep breaths then an assistant would release him from way down at the bottom of that tower and he'd have to hold his breath patiently and swim and float his way all the way to the surface. Wow! What a magical thing... and he did it better than any of the other sailors. He told me how you had to do this thing with your nose to equalize pressure in your ears on the way to the surface. A scuba diver would be going along side just for safety to offer air or other assistance but my Daddy and his amazing lungs never needed help.

I thought about this at the end when his amazing lungs fought so hard... just would not stop - kept working. I can't tell you the bitter irony I felt as I watched my Dad drown in his bed. Because I think that is what killed him in the very end. His remaining lung filled up with fluid - you could hear it. I think that fact as much as any other just galled me in his time of dying. I was so proud of my Daddy's lungs - and I know he was too.

He was a man of great spirit. Inspiration. Did you know that one of the definitions of "inspiration" is essentially to take air (spirit) into ones lungs? I guess if we continue to be inspired about the best of Ray's character my Daddy's lungs will still be working.

Dad's new favorite radio station...

Well most of you know that Dad was a big fan of the likes of Johnny Cash, Kris Kristopherson, John Denver, etc. Country music, folk music, songs and ballads on a human scale. Oh yeah.. Harry Chapen too.. ah the old cat's in the cradle song.
But a new favorite?
Well I'm going out on a limb here.
Psychology folks like to say that as we get older we get in touch with the other side of our gender... and you can't get much older than dead I reckon so maybe Dad would start to appreciate female vocalists more now. That and as I watched one of Dad's all time favorite movies (O' Brother where for art thou) with him I remember that one thing he enjoyed about it was the music. And that featured Alison Kraus among a talented cast of other musicians.
I can't help but think he'd like this custom radio station I've made. Click on 'er and see what you think.


Maybe I'll have to make a Johnny Cash etc radio station for him too. I dearly miss him, wish I could be driving down the road listening to tunes with him or singing harmony with he and his brother Paul.
Listen to your heart's content or for your heart's contents..

water melon

I got a water melon for Adems graduation on Thursday .It was small more like a Honey due than a watter melon but still it reminded me of dad.His belly was as cool as it got water melon belly is what I thought. He was all ways a produce snob we not paying more then 5cents a ld for the very best as we would drive east to west from stand to stand . He could pick em cant remember a bad melon dad picked,then came the spiting and pitching for distance with the seeds. Ive got to be more fun for my kids

dads visit

when we went down to D C two years ago dad came over to visit with his latest grandson me and Melissa. Well of course we had to do alot of walking and one day on the mall a robin was following us from dirt patch to dirt patch as we walked the sidewalk.  I smiled and told dad I had gotten that male robin worked up and he was trying to call me out.  Dad insisted the robin was just on a worm hunt and it had nothing to do with me.  Well the bird kept flying to the next dirt patch clawing the dirt up and staring me down chirping away (about 16 years back I went down to show dad his first grandchild Adem and we discoverd a white robin in his back yard to debate about)this went on for about 10 minutes and was a lot of fun watching and debating the birds behavior.

Well are Aunt Joehanna was telling me of how she gets a visit from time to time from her dad in the form of a blue bird and to be on the look out because Raymound will be able to drop in and say hi from time to time to me .

there I was four days ago on the computer wasting time kind of looking up new wood boilers when I hear a knock on the window, I look and no one is around.  I go back to wasting time a thump a louder knock. Well I know it's a bird and I open the window to see if it will fly in the room. The next thing I know there's the sound of a landing bird.  I look it's gone.  I go back to wasting time here he comes again this time he starts chirping callin me out, stop wasting time, I look and he's gone before I can set an eye on him.

I got up and turn off the computer and went for a walk with my new friend the robin flying just ahead of me along are road chirping and a scratch'n,  telling me what's what.

Brother from a different mother

The Year was 1961 I was in my 13th year when I met Ray Boeckmann.
My sister Colleen had called the local Navel Base Mare Island and asked to speak to a submariner? ( Well thats the story I was told) When Ray showed up at our house the first thing that struck me was his smile it was radiant! So began many years of friendship with the man that would marry my sister and become a profound influence in my life. He was 19 and just starting out on what turned out to be an incredible Naval Career. For those who don't know it Ray was Admiral Hyman Rickover's ( Father of Nuclear Submarine Navy) right hand man. But in those days he was just a brilliant young man who was in love with my sister. Ray had many talents my favorite was he played guitar and sang. I loved to sing with him I still remember all the lyrics to " They called it that old mountain dew" For a few years Ray filled a great emptiness in my life. It was because of him that I joined the submarine service. He also helped me buy my first car. A 1954 Cadillac that we purchased for $140.00. It was a real Beauty and a great Buy. Ray was a shrewd wheeler dealer! Although Ray was just a few years older than me he influenced me more than my Father ever did and I had a sort of hero worship for him. I know even with my many faults I am better man because of the time I spent with him. I was so overjoyed to see him at Rachael's wedding! He still exuded so much charm and an amazing inner strength to say nothing of his stamina in the work that needed to be done. I will always be grateful for the time we had together. The world has lost something truly precious in his passing. But he will always live on in the wonderful memories we all hold in our hearts! I can close my eye's and still see him dancing and singing and making all those around just a little happier for having known him. "Well they called it that good old mountain dew and them that refused it are few, I'll shut up my mug if you'll fill up my jug with that good old mountain dew" God Bless and Good Journey Your Brother Tom

My boy's all grown up graduation 08

Adem will be graduating May twenty second .Within a month of his graduation he will start a pre med camp in Anchorage. Adem has done the family proud and it has been a joy to watch him grow into a young man. I will miss him something fierce but hope the adventures he uncovers will more than make up for the empty spot in our lives.

never settle for anything less then your best, dad didn't have to say it he lived it

I'm still here :)

Hi ya guys...
Been a long time.
I'm still without internet but finally managed to get a library card and a few minutes to catch up on things.

I kept telling Dad, when he was in the hospital, that I'd be okay...but that I'd miss him something fierce. And that I do.
It's been rough these past few weeks with so many changes going on in my life...and I can't help but feel that it'd be just a little bit easier if he were there to give me the fatherly advice that he always has.

My Birthday came and went as it always does...the only real impact this year was that he wasn't here to sing 'Happy Birthday.'
Dana pitched in and did her best impression though- :)

So. I love you guys. I miss you ALL something fierce and hope to be able to spend some quality time catching up with everyone soon.
In the meantime: Be good. Eat your vegtables. And don't forget to count your blessings :)


PS: I've always thought Dad was so very Harrison Ford, albeit much more handsome. I had a huge crush on 'Indiana Jones' when I was a kid...until I saw a pic of our young beardless Dad...AHHH!

what did dad do that bug you , like eating every bit of the apple stem and all

Some of the things Ill miss most about dad will be his odd bits, odd to me any way does anyone want to share some quirky Ray stuff?

Things

This is sorta random but I thought I'd share.

There are things that I know he's touched.
And there is fierce protection there as if I can hold it forever and it won't let him go.
Or other traces - a clip of video, a bit of cassette tape, a favored song of his I hope I'll never forget.
I thought for a moment I'd misplaced the last video I have of him (June 07) and I cannot describe the panic that flew through me... like he was dying again.
How many small ways is there to hold him here? Of course there is the surest thing of all - his blood and spirit coursing through me, but I don't always have the confidence in that compared to these other small things - like a pair of his old pants he gave me last summer. I like to wear them but then I get a worry like... what if I wear them out? Will they go away too and what does that mean? Will he go further away when the things are gone too, if I don't cling tightly enough or exercise enough care?

Anvil's free verse for grampa ray

From large blistering deserts
to large plains of artic tundra
even tropical seas roamed he
an adventure always to be had
to the very end.

Live like you were dying

A couple weeks ago the thing that was really bothering me was the fact that Dad thought and behaved as though he had years left to live when he really only had months. I understand that we all had to have faith that he would beat the cancer, none more so then he. But I wondered how he would have spent those 9 months if he knew they were all he had. The song that kept running through my head was "Live like you were dying". As I listened to the lyrics I realised that dad was always living the way the man in the song described. I don't want to type all the lyrics but the highlights are ...oh heck I hope you have time to listen to the song because I don't have time to type all I wanted to . I like watching the Lion King better than Time Mcgraw so here you go. Basically I think dad was reading the good book , being a good friend, climbing mountians, watching eagles, giving forgiveness, being a good husband and a heap of other stuff everyday, unlike the character in this song who started living that way only when he thought he was going to die.