Wehllll...
Dad it has been quite a while, but I thought I'd best get on here and say a bit of something. I don't mean that in the way that a person feels when goaded to stand up and say something when he doesn't really want to but has to. I just mean the feeling has welled up long enough that now it has to get up out of me. I think the most important reflections for this year and in this particular day are that I am mostly happy in remembering you. I'm happy because the sting of your leaving is distant, the pit of despair of losing the ability to be with you and the frustration of not having you there when I need you is something I've managed to climb up out of and over. I'm also happy because in the process of climbing out of that pit of despair and overcoming that frustration has been effective because I've learned to see those parts of you in me and in others who's lives you touched. And even in a strange way I see bits of you in my children and in the other lights of the world and this brings a smile to my lips and a quiet peace to my heart for I know that you have not and cannot die.
Our Ray Stories
Saturday, December 25, 2010
Friday, December 24, 2010
Thanks Robert
I come here just to see that picture of Dad's smiling face. I just pop open this page and say "hi Dad!" and then go on with my day. Maybe you could give me a copy of this picture?
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
fantasy
Today I was fantasizing about the moment the asbestos began to enter Dad's lungs... how many particles did it take before the mesothelioma became a forgone conclusion. Was it like the straw that broke the camel's back or more like the one hundred thousandeth particle that fissured it's way into the soft tissue and became slowly malignant. Well the real fantasy was, what would it have taken to change the outcome. If Dad had not been promoted...never chosen to work with Rickover. I know it is senseless to think about such things but today I did for the first time. Picking over time, history, wondering how things could have been altered. Isn't life strange, he went to work everyday, with no notion he was dramatically shortening his life. love and miss you always Daddy
Sunday, October 17, 2010
I miss you, Dad :)
Happy happy Birthday!
I'm still trying to live my life to it's fullest like you would have wanted...it gets hard sometimes, but then I remember that you're still here with me/us. ::hugs::
I hope your Birthday is everything and more.
I'm still trying to live my life to it's fullest like you would have wanted...it gets hard sometimes, but then I remember that you're still here with me/us. ::hugs::
I hope your Birthday is everything and more.
Happy Birthday Daddy!
Here he is, Little Ray, wrapped in the blanket Grandma Becky made for him and here is another birthday we will acknowledge without actually seeing or hearing from Dad. I was thinking a month or so ago that I have gone long stretches of time in my life without seeing Dad but it has now been the longest span. Life is busy Dad, and it goes on, but you are still in my thoughts and the cleft of a new baby's chin.Saturday, August 14, 2010
still holding on
I am thinking about trying to find some of the men dad served with in the 70s and asking for stories. I bet there would be some goodies!
Monday, July 5, 2010
this one...
Yesterday I watched images of grand fireworks displays in places where it gets dark enough to have them and I remembered all the Fourth of July events we went to in Connecticut. This one holiday I remember sharing with dad. No Halloweens, Thanksgivings, or Easters, only one Christmas I remember, but Fourth of July we celebrated together! Oh, how I miss him.
Sunday, June 20, 2010
Happy Father's Day
Hey Dad...
I've been away and trying not to feel guilty about the fact that I've enjoyed a phase of grieving that isn't as painful. I don't think of you as often in a way that makes me slide off into a painful place. Mostly now I think of you and smile and appreciate the blessing it was and continues to be to have such a wonderful father in my life. Today, strangely I don't have my own children at my side. I'm going to hike up Bird Ridge in your honor. The last time I was there was with you ... we almost made it to the top and I"m sure we would have made it if it weren't for our getting started so late in the day. I'll be thinking of you and thankful all the way.
love you
Rob
Thursday, April 15, 2010
Friday, April 9, 2010
Monday, March 29, 2010
Sunday, February 14, 2010
Redneck Resort
Redneck Resort (Final Chapter)
Chapter 3
The extreme heat from dying sun left the dark airs of the night outside feeling like a natural oven. Inside our natural homemade protective covering, the air was stagnant and hot; above and all around us were a thick assortment of various size tree limbs intertwined with each other, all matted together and holding hands. This thick earthy skeleton supported at least twelve inches of a mixture of pine needles and forest leaves. These natural lifeless by-products of the forest around us became a barrier keeping the occasional cool breezes of the night outside. Due to the heat, we had all stripped down to the natural clothes given to us at birth except for our skivvies. Our mattress of thick pine needles on the earthen floor below became the only comfortable aspect of our journey into sleep and dreams.
We were all awakened early in the morning night by a thunderstorm creating havoc outside our tent. Loud explosions from booming cannons of thunder followed by brilliant flashes of lightening made all of us think that we had some how been transported back into the midst of the civil war. Then a loud clap of thunder followed by a lightening bolt hitting a tree across the creek made us focus on our present moment of human history. Having camped in a small valley afforded us some protection from the strong howling winds racing through the trees above us from reaching down and blowing away our tent of unprotected pine needles and dead leaves. Amidst the noise of the storm finally came large drops of cool rain putting out the fire from the sweltering heat of the day before; followed, a few minutes later, by a massive downpour of heavy rain. The sudden drop of temperature gave cause for all us to quickly put on our clothes except for brother Ray who still lay on his bed of soft hay and pine needles and loudly proclaiming, “ You guys, this is what survival camping is all about!”
The rest of us huddled together around our older brother Joe, jabbering like a bunch of squirrels about the ongoing war of nature outside and our common fear of impending doom from the howling winds above and around us in destroying our shaky shelter. Then, the first suggestion (by whom I do not remember) was made of sounding a retreat from the advancing violent forces of nature outside out tent to the safety of our home several miles away. This suggestion rose above our constant chatter to finally settle on the ears of Ray, who sat up in attention to remark, “We are not going home in all this rain. Knock it off, settle down and let’s get back to sleep!” So we all lay back on our natural beds and listened to the downpour of rain outside that was washing any hope of renewed sleep away.
Within a short time, the heavy rain had started to filter through our heavy protective covering of needle and leaves to drip into the tent. I sat up and looked about the tent to find Ray who appeared unconcerned about the dripping rain and fast asleep. I shouted, “Ray, the rain is dripping in the tent and there is water now coming in and causing our soft floor to become damp!” However, he remained silent and unmoved as if he had never heard me. Finally a little help from the heavy rain outside got his attention. The roof above his bed gave way and water began pouring through the hole down on Ray. He was now awake and quickly reacted by moving from under the hole in the roof. We all started laughing at his unfortunate rise from the dead and his loud remark of “SH-T!!! This was enough to convince him to begin the retreat back to home. We quickly made our way out of the wet tent to gather outside in the cold rain when before our eyes the soggy roof of our tent gave way under the weight of the wet pine needles. Our once standing and protective structure was now a pile of wet brush, leaves and needles. Nature had not only won the battle but now had won the war.
Ray led the way through the woods on what he called a “short cut.” Since he carried the only flood light, we did not question his ability to light the way through the darkness and woods to the safety of home. We had gone less a thousand yards, when the rain quit and we stopped for a moment to relish the silence of the woods.
We had only traveled another hundred feet, when we heard the dogs howling in the near distance. Ray shouted, “The dogs have treed!!!” Almost in unison, we all replied, “Who cares!” Yet before we could make any more objections, Ray began running through the woods towards the baying dogs. Since he had the only light we quickly followed suit in a dead run to keep up.
The dogs soon stopped their howling and now were in a violent fight with some unknown creature. “What could it be?” Joe shouted as we finally caught up with Ray. When the flood light came to a focus on the dogs and the ensuing fight, we all stopped at a safe distance to observe. Before us were two dogs pulling in opposing directions with their jaws locked tight on each end of a small furry animal that finally was ripped in two. Suddenly it was as if a silent stink bomb exploded and the night airs became saturated with a choking odor. Ray shouted, “Skunk!” The dogs hearing Ray’s voice began coming towards us (still a good distance away) each proudly carrying the bleeding and butchered animal in their respective mouths. We all heard Ray turn and shout, “RUN, don’t let those dogs catch us!!!” Like a silent herd of deer racing through the woods following the Ray and the only light in his hand. I was beginning to wonder if Ray knew the way or was just hoping to find a way home using his short cut when we came onto the gravel road that led to home.
We all began to laugh thinking we had out run the dogs and would be safe at home in less than a country mile. Our laughter came to an end when we heard the dogs barking a short distance behind us and we once more broke into a run. Ray suddenly turned and left the road into a opened field of high weeds and grass while shouting “follow me!” Making our way through the wet and soggy field, we finally came to our property and quietly made our way to the house. The dogs were nowhere to be heard or seen.
In the wash house, we stripped clean of our smelly wet clothes and like naked little Indians made our way silently into the house to our bedroom. There we put on new skivvies and climbed in to our bed. Ray whispered, “We made it without waking anyone!”
It was our misfortune that our dogs made it home at this time and Curly’s favorite sleeping spot was under the bushes located just under dad and mom’s bedroom window which was opened at the time. It did not take long for the strong skunk odor to reach my dad who was asleep. His loud voice proclaiming “skunk” filled the house to wake all within. As we dove and disappeared under our covers, it was Ray who said, “Almost had it made!” Then our bedroom door opened and we could hear Dad shout in his normal loud voice, “The boys are home!” Ray’s final remark under the covers was “there will be no more survival campout after this.”
The extreme heat from dying sun left the dark airs of the night outside feeling like a natural oven. Inside our natural homemade protective covering, the air was stagnant and hot; above and all around us were a thick assortment of various size tree limbs intertwined with each other, all matted together and holding hands. This thick earthy skeleton supported at least twelve inches of a mixture of pine needles and forest leaves. These natural lifeless by-products of the forest around us became a barrier keeping the occasional cool breezes of the night outside. Due to the heat, we had all stripped down to the natural clothes given to us at birth except for our skivvies. Our mattress of thick pine needles on the earthen floor below became the only comfortable aspect of our journey into sleep and dreams.
We were all awakened early in the morning night by a thunderstorm creating havoc outside our tent. Loud explosions from booming cannons of thunder followed by brilliant flashes of lightening made all of us think that we had some how been transported back into the midst of the civil war. Then a loud clap of thunder followed by a lightening bolt hitting a tree across the creek made us focus on our present moment of human history. Having camped in a small valley afforded us some protection from the strong howling winds racing through the trees above us from reaching down and blowing away our tent of unprotected pine needles and dead leaves. Amidst the noise of the storm finally came large drops of cool rain putting out the fire from the sweltering heat of the day before; followed, a few minutes later, by a massive downpour of heavy rain. The sudden drop of temperature gave cause for all us to quickly put on our clothes except for brother Ray who still lay on his bed of soft hay and pine needles and loudly proclaiming, “ You guys, this is what survival camping is all about!”
The rest of us huddled together around our older brother Joe, jabbering like a bunch of squirrels about the ongoing war of nature outside and our common fear of impending doom from the howling winds above and around us in destroying our shaky shelter. Then, the first suggestion (by whom I do not remember) was made of sounding a retreat from the advancing violent forces of nature outside out tent to the safety of our home several miles away. This suggestion rose above our constant chatter to finally settle on the ears of Ray, who sat up in attention to remark, “We are not going home in all this rain. Knock it off, settle down and let’s get back to sleep!” So we all lay back on our natural beds and listened to the downpour of rain outside that was washing any hope of renewed sleep away.
Within a short time, the heavy rain had started to filter through our heavy protective covering of needle and leaves to drip into the tent. I sat up and looked about the tent to find Ray who appeared unconcerned about the dripping rain and fast asleep. I shouted, “Ray, the rain is dripping in the tent and there is water now coming in and causing our soft floor to become damp!” However, he remained silent and unmoved as if he had never heard me. Finally a little help from the heavy rain outside got his attention. The roof above his bed gave way and water began pouring through the hole down on Ray. He was now awake and quickly reacted by moving from under the hole in the roof. We all started laughing at his unfortunate rise from the dead and his loud remark of “SH-T!!! This was enough to convince him to begin the retreat back to home. We quickly made our way out of the wet tent to gather outside in the cold rain when before our eyes the soggy roof of our tent gave way under the weight of the wet pine needles. Our once standing and protective structure was now a pile of wet brush, leaves and needles. Nature had not only won the battle but now had won the war.
Ray led the way through the woods on what he called a “short cut.” Since he carried the only flood light, we did not question his ability to light the way through the darkness and woods to the safety of home. We had gone less a thousand yards, when the rain quit and we stopped for a moment to relish the silence of the woods.
We had only traveled another hundred feet, when we heard the dogs howling in the near distance. Ray shouted, “The dogs have treed!!!” Almost in unison, we all replied, “Who cares!” Yet before we could make any more objections, Ray began running through the woods towards the baying dogs. Since he had the only light we quickly followed suit in a dead run to keep up.
The dogs soon stopped their howling and now were in a violent fight with some unknown creature. “What could it be?” Joe shouted as we finally caught up with Ray. When the flood light came to a focus on the dogs and the ensuing fight, we all stopped at a safe distance to observe. Before us were two dogs pulling in opposing directions with their jaws locked tight on each end of a small furry animal that finally was ripped in two. Suddenly it was as if a silent stink bomb exploded and the night airs became saturated with a choking odor. Ray shouted, “Skunk!” The dogs hearing Ray’s voice began coming towards us (still a good distance away) each proudly carrying the bleeding and butchered animal in their respective mouths. We all heard Ray turn and shout, “RUN, don’t let those dogs catch us!!!” Like a silent herd of deer racing through the woods following the Ray and the only light in his hand. I was beginning to wonder if Ray knew the way or was just hoping to find a way home using his short cut when we came onto the gravel road that led to home.
We all began to laugh thinking we had out run the dogs and would be safe at home in less than a country mile. Our laughter came to an end when we heard the dogs barking a short distance behind us and we once more broke into a run. Ray suddenly turned and left the road into a opened field of high weeds and grass while shouting “follow me!” Making our way through the wet and soggy field, we finally came to our property and quietly made our way to the house. The dogs were nowhere to be heard or seen.
In the wash house, we stripped clean of our smelly wet clothes and like naked little Indians made our way silently into the house to our bedroom. There we put on new skivvies and climbed in to our bed. Ray whispered, “We made it without waking anyone!”
It was our misfortune that our dogs made it home at this time and Curly’s favorite sleeping spot was under the bushes located just under dad and mom’s bedroom window which was opened at the time. It did not take long for the strong skunk odor to reach my dad who was asleep. His loud voice proclaiming “skunk” filled the house to wake all within. As we dove and disappeared under our covers, it was Ray who said, “Almost had it made!” Then our bedroom door opened and we could hear Dad shout in his normal loud voice, “The boys are home!” Ray’s final remark under the covers was “there will be no more survival campout after this.”
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Archer
well he sleeps with his eyes open has an outy belly butten and likes to sing and dance and sure reminds me of dad I am so blessed
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