Welcome friends...thanks for coming by. We're seeking beauty in all of creation... in our faith and our families; our art and our music; our crafts and kitchens, and even in our own backyard. We'll share a poem or a recipe, a picture or a memory; maybe a dream of how we wish our life could be. And though we acknowledge that the world can be harsh, we're keeping it pleasant in our little corner; endeavoring to keep the words from the Book of all Books: ...Whatsoever things are lovely; think on these things.

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Photo: Bee and thistle: Taken high in the Cascade Mountains where there is a bee buzzing on every thistle. by Debora Rorvig

Friday, January 2, 2009

Ray


Written for Raymond Miller


If you knew my brother; you know how hard it is to adequately describe him. Ray lived his life with such gusto that he just reminds me of a 4th of July fireworks display.

When I was a little girl; Ray and Sandy would come home every year on leave. We were all so excited to see them. On the day of arrival, I would get butterflies in my stomach and become really nervous. I knew he was going to come sweeping into the room; hug dad, swing mom around the kitchen a few times while crooning “the Yellow Rose of Texas”, then head right for me. He’d scoop me up into his arms and put me onto the ceiling. This was at the same time exciting and frightening to me. He always had a way of exciting people while giving them butterflies in their stomachs.

Ray always evoked this emotional response from those around him; because he himself was so passionate. And whether he was putting you on the ceiling; talking politics; singing cowboy songs or driving a 65 Mustang; he did it with enthusiasm. (I won’t go into a ride I had out Chuckanut Drive one time in his Porsche, but suffice to say it was exciting!)

Here’s what I know for sure about Ray. He loved us all with his whole heart. If he disagreed with you; he’d tell you in no uncertain terms. If what he said was politically incorrect; he didn’t care. He wasn’t concerned with what people thought about him. He was concerned about what people thought. And at the same time he would have given his life without hesitation for any of us or anyone. And he spent his life serving our country.

I will never look at a fireworks display without thinking about Ray. Every time I see a jet stream soaring toward the heavens or hear an airplane overhead; his memory will come to me. I’ll think of him every morning at school when they say the flag salute, and when I see an eagle or a Veterans Day parade. When I hear a cowboy song it will be his voice I hear.


I am so proud of my brother. I am proud of the life he lead; his service to his country; and for the way he battled to live. He definitely did not go gentle into that good night. Ray, I salute you for being ever the soldier.

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