Dear Ray,

Ray was always such a perfect name for you because you were the human embodiment of a ray of sunshine. When I think about you now, even all the way across the pond, I can still feel the warmth that you brought to every room you walked into.

Losing you has been one of the hardest and most unusual grieving processes that I have yet experienced. Because while I am sad that you left this earth so soon (I truly believed you would be playing golf with those knee replacements until age 100), I am also filled with so much gratitude.

Gratitude that you helped bring me into existence by giving me the most incredible mother in the world. Gratitude that I got to know you and touch a part of your life. Gratitude for the time that I spent with you. But mostly, gratitude for your positive mindset and outlook. You have been my greatest role model for how to take on each day with optimism and appreciate that it is another day to live, learn, love, and accomplish great things. 

And wow how much you accomplished! Senior softball World Series, endless impressive waterskiing feats, bowling contests, many-a-finished crossword puzzle and bingo blackout, building a beautiful family, surviving the pandemic, the list goes on….

When I close my eyes, I see you standing in our sunny, moss-covered courtyard in Carmel with your flat cap and your cane, as swarms upon swarms of monarch butterflies flew around us. This was one of the most beautiful moments of my life, but not just because of the butterflies — because I got to watch you watching the butterflies. The subtle shake of the head that signified you could not believe what was before your eyes. And that right there, the fact that you can hit 96 years old and still be in awe at the world around you, is a beautiful thing.

Those last few months with you were truly priceless. I will never forget flipping through old photo albums of you, grandma, and mom, and the stories that accompanied them. I will never forget singing Frank Sinatra songs in the car with you or hearing you play Don Ho songs on the ukulele. I will not forget the endless hours spent on puzzles over Christmas or the calendar you kept with the birthdays of everyone in your building.

I will miss your sloppy kisses, your personalized birthday cards, and your “I’m proud of you kiddo”s. 

I already do miss all these things and more.

Thank you for being your incredible self.

With all my love…