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"This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased"
Matthew 3:17
He was born on a Wednesday in the springtime of my eighteenth year. I was an inexperienced teenaged mother with a military husband serving half a world away. Through the haze of drugs administered during labor, I remember him being placed in my arms; a tiny bundle with ‘sticky-up’ hair, so beautiful, so perfect. I cried when I noticed the bruising on his face from the long and difficult process of being born. I touched my lips to his perfect brow and stroked his beautiful black hair softly before falling back into my ‘twilight sleep’. Thus began our journey together.
The bond was instant and powerful. He was given the first name of a king, the middle name of the savior, and the last name of a warrior. I adored him. Although I was the parent, he became the teacher. He taught me to love unconditionally, to wonder at the world, to appreciate laughter; he gave me the knowledge and wisdom of a child. His gifts to me were many: flowers & stones picked at random, hugs, kisses, poems and, once, a frog.
We shared the same tastes in art, literature, music. We read Shakespeare together. I watched him grow into a man—loyal brave, noble and kind. He had the most incredible sense of humor, always ready with comments that could make anyone smile. I felt the pain of letting him go, as we all must feel when our children leave; but he was never entirely gone. He was ever present in my heart.
He made mistakes, and gamely paid whatever penalty was demanded of him. I watched him struggle to overcome and yet, he seldom lost his smile. Even as the weight of the world descended on his shoulders, he kept his smile. When the disappointments and pain grew too great for him to bear, he chose his time to leave them behind.
He died on a Wednesday. Although the official certificate states it was Thursday, I know it was not. I was the first person to hold him, and the last. I stroked his hair back and touched my lips softly to his still perfect brow before they took him away. I sat, alone, in the pre-dawn darkness, the moon a waning crescent in the sky, looking at the stars and wondering if he was still aware of me. I would never again look at the moon without remembering that night.
It is unnatural for a parent to outlive a child. He has gone, but he is with me always. He left one final lesson; love never dies.
“There is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness, but of power. They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues. They are messengers of overwhelming grief...and unspeakable love.”
Washington Irving
Oneness
Thich Nhat Hahn
The moment I die,
I will try to come back to you
As quickly as possible.
I promise it will not take long.
Isn’t it true
I am already with you,
as I die each moment?
I come back to you
in every moment.
Just look,
feel my presence.
If you want to cry,
please cry.
And know
that I will cry with you.
The tears you shed
will heal us both.
Your tears are mine.
The earth I tread this morning
transcends history.
Spring and Winter are both present in the moment.
The young leaf and the dead leaf are really one.
My feet touch deathlessness,
and my feet are yours.
Walk with me now.
Let us enter the dimension of oneness
and see the cherry tree blossom in winter.
Why should we talk about death?
I don’t need to die
to be back with you.
"In our sleep, pain which cannot forget falls drop by drop upon the heart until, in our own despair, against our will, comes wisdom through the awful grace of God."
Æschylus (c. 525-456 BC)
Eskimo Legend
" Perhaps they are not stars
But rather openings in heaven
Where the love of our lost ones
Pours down through
And shines on us
To let us know they are happy "
Vincent
Starry, starry night.
Paint your palette blue and grey,
Look out on a summer's day,
With eyes that know the darkness in my soul.
Shadows on the hills,
Sketch the trees and the daffodils,
Catch the breeze and the winter chills,
In colors on the snowy linen land.
Now I understand what you tried to say to me,
How you suffered for your sanity,
How you tried to set them free.
They would not listen, they did not know how.
Perhaps they'll listen now.
Starry, starry night.
Flaming flowers that brightly blaze,
Swirling clouds in violet haze,
Reflect in Vincent's eyes of china blue.
Colors changing hue, morning field of amber grain,
Weathered faces lined in pain,
Are soothed beneath the artist's loving hand.
Now I understand what you tried to say to me,
How you suffered for your sanity,
How you tried to set them free.
They would not listen, they did not know how.
Perhaps they'll listen now.
For they could not love you,
But still your love was true.
And when no hope was left in sight
On that starry, starry night,
You took your life, as lovers often do.
But I could have told you, Vincent,
This world was never meant for one
As beautiful as you.
Starry, starry night.
Portraits hung in empty halls,
Frameless head on nameless walls,
With eyes that watch the world and can't forget.
Like the strangers that you've met,
The ragged men in the ragged clothes,
The silver thorn of bloody rose,
Lie crushed and broken on the virgin snow.
Now I think I know what you tried to say to me,
How you suffered for your sanity,
How you tried to set them free.
They would not listen, they're not listening still.
Perhaps they never will...
Don McLean
Remember Me
Remember me when flowers bloom
Early in the spring
Remember me on sunny days
In the fun that summer brings
Remember me in the fall
As you walk through the leaves of gold
And in the wintertime - remember me
In the stories that are told
But most of all remember
Each day - right from the start
I will be forever near
For I live within your heart
Author: Unknown
With You
I was with you...all day today.
I walked with you, along the way.
I’ve seen your eyes. I know your fear.
I wish you understood how I am here.
I am here because you know me.
You know me through and through.
You recognize my voice, because it recognizes you.
The truth says it’s not different now, only you can’t see
Because you use your eyes and ears, you may not know it’s me.
So, close your eyes and rest your thought, let me show you how
To know that I am with you, so you will never doubt.
I use the wind, instead of lips, when I want to kiss your cheek.
I’m morning dew in the air that makes you think of me.
I’m the bird outside your window that wakes you way too soon.
I’ll be the loudest of them all, so you’re sure to catch my tune.
Give to me the moment, every time I cross your mind.
Don’t dare pull away, because you lack the time.
I’m trying very hard to tell you I am near.
On the radio, there I am, the very next song you hear.
I have a message just for you.
Don’t pull away, let it through.
Listen! Listen! Not for my voice, listen! Shhhhh.
Those words are my choice.
There’s a stranger passing by, bumps your shoulder, catch his eye.
There I am. Please be kind.
The old book you found yesterday underneath the bed,
Turn the page, stop anywhere. Tell me, what have you read?
Me! A message from me, the only way I do.
There I am, everywhere. Now I’m more a part of you.
I’m the flower in your garden that blooms with little rain,
Giving you beauty, in color, in hopes to ease your pain.
I’m a child with a smile or a baby with a tear.
Look at my face carefully, can’t you see me clear?
I will help you now, carry your burden light.
Know that I will hold you. Walk your days and sleep your nights.
I can do this now, because I have no limit you see.
I have all the world as tools to give you Love from Me.
Although it’s time to close this note, my words still linger on,
And my heart is burning brightly now, so
Listen! Shhhhh. This is our song!
Ray and His Good Friend Curious George
Ray was four years old when I joined the Army; we had never been separated before and he was devastated when I left for basic training. Twelve weeks was a very long time to be away from my beloved children, I bought a Curious George monkey for Ray and a fluffy white lamb for my daughter, Angela, at the PX and brought them home with me after completing basic training.
Curious George was an instant success, he quickly became Ray’s constant companion. Through the years George had adventures and mishaps, much like his storybook counterpart. He was once lost in Logan airport, Boston, MA, another time he was locked in a beauty shop in Tulsa, OK. Ray cried crocodile tears each time, but each time, he was safely returned us. Over the years, he was torn and mended several times, his once bright red shirt and cap were faded, his eyes were lost and lovingly replaced with brown buttons, his nose fell off and I had to embroider him new nostrils using an upholstery needle and coarse black thread. As Ray grew older, he put George in a place of honor, safe from the hands of ‘little ones’ that might harm his now somewhat aged monkey.
After Ray’s death, Curious George became even more precious to me; he was a symbol of my son’s childhood and the many happy memories of that golden time. I placed him on my son’s altar, along with his prized volume of Curious George, by H.A. Ray and other mementos. The altar, and all of its contents, was lost in a fire two years after Ray’s death. I mourned the loss of these things, but most of all, the loss of his precious stuffed monkey, the ‘best friend’ that had accompanied him throughout his childhood. I consoled myself with the thought that George had been cremated and gone to join his good friend, Ray, for eternity.
I have since purchased several duplicate Georges, the newer ‘revised’ not nearly as special as the original George. I find myself searching EBay for vintage George dolls to give away to children. As I introduce each child to George, with a gift of a stuffed toy and sometimes a book or DVD of the movie, I smile at the memory of the special relationship Ray shared with his Curious George. Every child should have a ‘Curious George’ in his life, a special friend that will always be with him.
With You
"I loved the boy with the utmost love of which my soul is capable and he is taken from me-yet in the agony of my spirit in surrendering such a treasure, I feel a thousand times richer than if I had never possessed it."
WilliamWordsworth
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Click here to see Ray Guerrero's Family Tree |
 Tributes and Condolences |
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Sunday Morning / Mom
It is so long since I have heard your voice or seen you smile. The love I feel for you knows no boundries as there are no boundries that could hold it. The joy you brought to my life is matched only by the sorrow of losing you. I wa...
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Last night / Mom
I don't need anything to bring you into my thoughts; you live in my heart and are there all the time. Late last night I got a call from Angela she told me she had received a message from an old friend of yours, Robbie Lorden. It made me sad to think ...
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My Brother not forgotten... / Angela Embrey (Sister)
Sometimes I feel so shallow for not writing. I get soo busy with work and kids, that it's hard. Sometimes I just get scared, that's why death scares me. I'm afraid to think of the people who have gone in my life because it hurt...
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Ray you will be dearly missed / Robert (Robbie) Lordon (Friend)
I have to express my shock as I have been looking for Ray for some time to find him this way is indeed a very sad day for me. My heartfelt condolences to all of the family members. Ray was so full of life it is so true what everyone ...
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Always thinking of you / John Rodriguez (Uncle John-Bear )
I was thinking of you. Until we meet again on the other side. Say hi to Grandma and Grandpa for us.
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I am so sorry / SP Garbielle's Mom Read >> |
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Happy Birthday / Mom Read >> |
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Seeing your Father / Mom Read >> |
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My Darling Son, / Mom Read >> |
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San Antonio / Mom Read >> |
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Open Letter to Catherine / Sy Kelley (mom) Read >> |
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Happy Birthday / Mom Read >> |
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My Favorite Memory / Nicole Rodriguez (cousin) Read >> |
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Wishing / Mom Read >> |
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My Beloved Brother / Angela Embrey (Sister) Read >> |
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| His legacy |
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Some of Ray's favorite reads:
Ray believed in organ donation, because of the time delay, we were unable to donate his organs as he would have wished. He did give the gift of his corneas, skin, tissue and bone. It is not enough, but it is all we had.
These writings were found in Ray's belongings, because they were 'so Ray', we used two of them on his memorial card:
"The day will come when my body will lie upon a white sheet neatly tucked under four corners of a mattress located in a hospital; busily occupied with the living and the dying. At a certain moment a doctor will determine that my brain has ceased to function and that, for all intents and purposes, my life has stopped.
When that happens, do not attempt to instill artificial life into my body by the use of a machine. And don't call this my deathbed. Let it be called the bed of life, and let my body be taken from it to help others lead fuller lives.
Give my sight to the man who has never seen a sunrise, a baby's face or love in the eyes of a woman.
Give my heart to a person whose own heart has caused nothing but endless days of pain.
Give my blood to the teenager who was pulled from the wreckage of his car, so that he might live to see his grandchildren play.
Give my kidneys to the one who depends on a machine to exist from week to week.
Take my bones, every muscle, every fiber and nerve in my body and find a way to make a crippled child walk.
Explore every corner of my brain.
Take my cells, if necessary, and let them grow so that, someday a speechless boy will shout at the crack of a bat and a deaf girl will hear the sound of rain against her window.
Burn what is left of me and scatter the ashes to the winds to help the flowers grow.
If you must bury something, let it be my faults, my weakness and all prejudice against my fellow man.
Give my sins to the devil.
Give my soul to God.
If, by chance, you wish to remember me, do it with a kind deed or word to someone who needs you. If you do all I have asked, I will live forever. "
Robert N. Test
"And if I go, while you're still here., know that I live on,
Vibrating to a different measure, behind a veil you cannot see through.
You will not see me, so you must have faith.
I wait for the time when we can soar together again-both aware of each other.
Until then, live life to its fullest and when you need me;
whisper my name in your heart
I will be there."
Coleen Hitchcock
"All men have the stars, but they are not the same things for different people. You, you alone, will have the stars as no one else has them. In one of those stars I will be laughing. When you look at the sky at night, you, only you, will have the stars that laugh. And when your sorrow is comforted, you will be content that you have known me. It will be as if, in place of the stars, I have given you a great number of little bells that know how to laugh."
Antoine St-Exupery
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| Ray's Photo Album |
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