Our Life

I have been told that one thing that would help me is to get out and volunteer.  I've thought about it, but I know I am not ready yet.  Losing Ray has been so very hard.  He was my strength when I was down.  You see, when I met Ray, I had very little trust in men.  In fact, I was scared to death of being alone with a man. 

When I was 13, I was raped by my father.  I lived in total fear for the next 5 years of my life until I moved out at age 18.  I admit, I was very naive.  When I met Ray, he was a customer that came into the family market where I worked part time as a stocker and carry out girl.  He made me feel good about myself.  About a month later, while bagging his groceries, I slipped a  Christmas card into one of his bags.  I moved into the studio apartment next door to him shortly after.  We met and started talking.  When we first started our relationship, I told him what had happened, afraid of rejection.  He was very gentle and compassionate.  He never made me feel bad about what had happened.  With him, I learned how special love could be. 

After we were married, we moved to CA.  While working for a doctor, I had what I call a meltdown while helping a patient.  All I remember, was walking back to his office and sitting down.  I could not talk or move. The patient I was helping caused a flash back of my father.  When the doctor fiinished with his last patient, he came in and talked to me.  He was very understanding and got me in with a therapist who dealt in cases of incest and rape.  He gave me 2 hours every Friday to go to my visits.  Ray stood by me and when my family disowned me, he was my rock.  I believe it made him even more protective of me because he saw the vulnerability.  In time, he went through his own therapy for PTSD from his service in Viet Nam.  Then, we both went to different groups: Adult Children of Alcoholics, etc.  We talked more and became closer. 

We never had children.  Our relationship just kept getting stronger.  We had some rough spots, but we never gave up on each other.  He could always sense when something was bothering me and would look into my eyes and ask what was wrong. He would then just hold me afterwards and comfort me. 

In the early 90's, Ray was diagnosed with a medical condition that was related to the agent orange exposure while serving in Viet Nam.  He asked at that time what his prognosis was.  We were told 10 years, 15 if he was lucky.  He made it 19 years.

He used to tease me and tell me that he and God had a pact, that He would take Ray before me because He knew Ray would not make it without me.  I would tell him that I had a greater chance of going before him because I drove to work every day and Ray no longer drove.  He would always smile and say, God will take me first.  He would also say that being 10 years older than me, I would out live him.  

Two days before he died, we found out his heart had failed and was only working at 18% in November.  In December he was having a harder time and by the time he got in with his doctor in late January, we knew that his heart was givng out.  He came home that Tuesday and told me that evening what he wanted me to be sure to get to some of his nephews.  He had made statements in December that made me wonder if that would be his last Christmas.  It left me feeling uneasy, but he would say he was fine.  In January, he asked me to take care of him as long as I possibly could.  I asked him again, was there something he was not telling me.  He would tell me a little about his time in the service overseas.  After his death, I realized he had stopped talking about the future a week prior to his passing.  Then on Wednesday night before he died, he talked to me about moving my computer to the living room and putting his computer in the "office."  He then said to turn his bedroom into a guest room if I wanted to and then told me I was strong, that I would be okay and that our dogs and cats would keep me company.  Again, I asked him if there was something he wasn't telling me, he said no.  On Thursday morning about 5:00 I woke up and could not get back to sleep.  I finally got up and went in to check on how Ray was doing.  He asked for some water and had a hard time drinking it.  I asked him if he wanted some ice chips and he said yes so I hand fed him ice chips for an hour.  He would squeeze my hands and say "Thank you for taking such good care of me."  I helped him sit up and told him I was concerned and would like to call an ambulance.  He said no, he was just tired and needed some sleep.  He asked me to pull the blankets up around him and close the door so the animals would not come in and let him sleep for an hour.  He told me to come back in an hour and check on him.  I covered him and told him I loved him as I always did and gave hime a kiss.  About a half hour later, I peeked in on him, he seemed to be resting.  Less than 10 minutes later, I heard this noise that sounded like his CPAP mask had slipped so I went in to adjust it, but, it was too late. He was gone.  I cried out his name in pain and could not rouse him.  I knew he was gone but did not want to accept it.  I called 9-1-1 and they sent the paramedics and coroner.  A police officer showed up as well.  The paramedics could not detect a pulse and the coroner told me his heart just gave out as he slept, that he had not suffered. 

I had told the paramedics and police office everything that had happened since the doctor visit on Tuesday.  The paramedics and the detective who came out shortly after said that Ray most likely would have passed that day even if I had called them. But by listening to Ray, I had allowed him to die with dignity at home as he wanted, not in a hospital bed hooked to wires and tubes. 

To this day, I keep asking could I have done anything different?  I had seen how Ray's health had deteriorated in a few short weeks.  He had such a hard time getting around and even with oxygen, had a hard time in catching his breath.  His doctor did not seem that concerned when he saw him on that Tuesday.  After the doctor told us the test results, Ray had asked if there was anything they could do to help his heart and the doctor said no.  It broke my heart when I heard that.  

I had heard Ray talking in his room days prior to his passing and would ask him who he was talking to and he would say no one.  Then at times he would make noises as if he was answering questions or asking questions.  I now wonder if he was talking to the angels who were helping him in preparation from his journey here on Earth to Heaven.  It gives me comfort that he was not afraid for himself.  As always, he was trying to take care of me.

I had a bench made for our headstone.  They engraved our first dog "Pugsley" on it.  Ray had asked me rather than a standard headstone, to instead get a bench if it was not too expensive so that I could come and talk to him.  I did not care what the price was, I ordered the bench and have gone up to talk to him when I am not talking to him at home, in the car, at the store or whenever the urge comes up.  I played rock and roll music at his service as he had once told me that when he died, he wanted that music.  So, we listened to Bob Seger, The Doobie Bros, Carl Douglas, Louis Armstrong, The Beach Boys and "Lonely Looking Sky" from the Neil Diamond Jonathon Livingston Seagull soundtrack.  We had listened to that particular album several times in December between Christmas music.  His one brother and nephew put a video clip together of still pictures we all had and that played during the entire service.  It helped me because I felt Ray would've been happy with that.  However, when they played "Taps" at the cemetary as the flag was presented, I lost it.  I know Ray would have understood.

Since then, I have felt Ray has visited.  The first time, one of our cats, came running in to his bedroom and got in my lap and stared intensely over my left shoulder and chattereing the entire time, she would put her front paws on each side of my face and talk to me and then look over my shoulder and chatter again.  She has not done that since that night.  She does talk to me, but not like that.  I had two sketches he had done as a class assignment in college shortly after we married - one a profile of me and the other a self portrait of him - matted and framed.  I hung them in the hallway and every once in a while, whenI get up in the morning, one of them will be hanging crooked.  I had bought some chimes this year that had marbles in them with the colors of our birthstones.  Twice since I've hung them, I have been outside where the one with his birthstone has been twirling like crazy while the one with mine was still as could be.  Some may say I am putting more to it, but I feel he was letting me know he was here.  I have pictures of him all over the house, in his "cave" in the back yard, etc.  It gives me comfort knowing that he may be here watching over me. 

So when I say Ray was  my first and only love, this is the story.  He was my soulmate, my best friend, my husband, my anchor in life's storms.  I will love him until the day I die and see him again in Heaven.  I thank God every day for bringing Ray into my life and giving us the 38 plus years we had together.  I love you, Ray!