Miss you, Ray

Ray came into Troy’s life a couple of years before I did, at a time when Troy was at a crossroads. He had recently moved back to Calgary after being laid off and was in school to see what else he wanted to do. It was there that he met Ray, a 17 year old fresh faced kid from a small town up north. I have heard so many stories about how ‘the gang’ took corrupting him as a challenge worthy to be taken on. There’s the story of his 18th birthday, spent on a pub crawl, where Ray had to ride in the back of the truck, as no one wanted to hose out the cab; the stories of water-gun fights (complete with camouflage and ‘Rambo style pictures!) in the townhouse he shared with some others in the gang; stories of hanging out at the park playing hacky sack and learning the ‘ways of the force’; the evolution of the word ‘FGAB’. They shared a bond that I know helped Troy, as he took Ray under his wing, often calling him his little brother.

A short while after Ray had moved back to Edson, is when Troy and I met. Ray was one of the few that this confirmed bachelor felt comfortable talking to about his feelings, so off he went to Edson for a week for some ‘guy time’. It wasn’t long until I got to meet him, first over the phone, and eventually in person. I remember thinking that if this new guy of mine has a friends like this, he must be worth an awful lot. When we were engaged, Ray was one of the first people we shared the news with. He didn’t even hesitate in congratulating us and agreeing to stand up for us. The week before the wedding, he came to Rimbey to help with last minute preparations, and he was there helping out whenever I turned around. If either of us was getting overwhelmed, there he was to help diffuse the situation. If plastic flowers had to be taped to something, there he was taping away. If someone needed a shoulder or a drink, there he was. If something needed to be brought out to the hall... well, he did the best he could. His blue Bronco II was rather full of speakers, leaving just the back seat for some other stuff! My dad still calls him the Pickle Man: on a trip out to the hall to bring food, a jar of pickles went missing. We looked all over the place, and figured since he had brought much of the food, he just MUST know where they were. Why would he keep pickles, of all things?? After an hour or two, they were finally found- right where my mom had set them down! On our wedding day, with nerves running high, he entertained the guys with the piano in their room, and even led a conga-line before the ceremony. If you watch the video of our ceremony, you will notice that I couldn’t ever look up for more than a second, that’s because when I did, Ray’s huge, silly grin was right there, over Troy’s shoulder. I just about lost it to hysterical giggles every time I looked up. During the dance, he told me the grin was just because he was so unbelievably happy for us, REALLY, it wasn’t meant to make me lose it! He also told me although he already had enough sisters, I was now considered one of them.

Over the next few years, we saw each other infrequently, as we were all busy and had conflicting schedules. When we did think to call, or were able to visit, it was always like no time had passed. We listened to each other’s trials and tribulations, we followed with interest his time at the mill, his going to NAIT, the trip to Venezuela, and tried to be there for him when he went through some hard times. I remember hearing about a new girl who he thought might finally be the one, and we were so excited for him. It was never awkward, no matter how much time had passed since last contact, he always seemed so very happy to catch up again. It’s not often that you can find a friend, have months or even a year go by, and it just picks up wherever the last conversation left off. So many times, something good would happen, and we’d say ‘Ray has to be told about this!’ There was more than once that he dropped whatever he had up to meet us somewhere, if we found ourselves in Edmonton. He had a wonderful way of making you feel like the most important person in the world at that moment. It was a real friendship of spirits.

When we were invited to his wedding, we went to finally see one of our best friends get married, and also expecting to feel somewhat out of place. I mean, it’s not like we had kept super close contact, nor did we know his bride, his ‘Edmonton friends’, or his family. When he saw us walk into the building, however, he came over to give us hugs and to thank us for coming up- and he meant it. During the reception, he did his best to keep coming back to our table to have a few minutes to sit and visit, to make us feel like we still were important to him, too. This graciousness will always stand out to me when thinking of him. When it came time to throw the garter, he made a big show of getting under Darcia’s dress to retrieve it, and later came by to tell Troy that he’d taken notes from the best. Although that night was the first time we had met Darcia, she was as welcoming as we could have imagined a busy bride to be. She spoke to us like an old friend, and exuded a warmth and strength of character that was perfect for our ‘Rainman’. Oops! He was her Rainman, now. But that was totally okay, because she was the right woman for him. Of course, they got a jar of pickles in the gift pile.

After he left for Afghanistan, we read and saved every email, every picture that he sent. We’d talk about them with each other, and read them again and again. Recently, we remade contact with another guy from the old Calgary days, and forwarded an email to him. Funny how everyone seemed eager to hear how Ray was doing, no matter how long it had been since they’d seen him, or how briefly the encounter was. Ray was one of those exceptional men that you never forget.

His last email to us was on Friday the 4th, where he expressed how much he was looking forward to coming home, and also down to Calgary to get together. The next day...

I heard on the radio, just as I was pulling into the B.C. town where Troy is working, but I was sure that I didn’t hear it right. They said HART, right? Yeah, it had to be HART. It just couldn’t be OUR Ray. So really, we found out, minutes later, together in front of the TV. That grin is unmistakeable.
What was supposed to be a fun weekend visit between two people who never get to spend enough time together wound up being a late night of stories and sorrow for two other people who won’t have anymore time together. There is so much that will be missed. I want to thank Darcia for remembering us in her time of loss, and I want to thank Ray for sharing his life, his spirit, and his heart with us. We are blessed to have known him.