If you noted my cousin Donna's comment a couple of posts ago, she just carried the news that my cousin Raymond had died.

Raymond was this mythic figure when I was a little girl. He was my uncle Ernest's (my mom's second oldest brother) son. He was stationed in Northern California during World War II and fell in love with the place. As soon as the war was over and he'd come home to his mother and father, he returned to settle there, get married, and have five children. To a child like me who was in love with television, anyone who lived in the "magic land of California" was awesome.

In 1975 my dad finally followed through on one of his dreams: the three of us drove out to California. Of course Mom wanted to visit her nephew so we contacted them.

Raymond was one of those people who was even more fun in person than he was to wonder about. I suppose in the day-to-day scheme of living he had sad days and lost his temper like anyone else, but when we visited there he was always smiling. He adored my mother—she was close to many of her nieces and nephews, most of whom she had cared for when they were younger—and he was always giving her an affectionate hug and calling her "sweetie" or "my girlfriend." We had a lot of fun during both of our visits—we went to downtown San Francisco (Dad even drove down Lombard Street), rode the cable cars, went to Muir Woods. The second time we visited Ray's eldest son Bruce was getting married. Ray was the proud papa in his natty tuxedo. We had a grand time that day.

Eventually he and his wife Joyce came east to visit the family several times. He was always crazy to come see "Aunty Mary" and when we cleaned out Mom's photos last year we found dozens of snapshots that Ray and Joyce had taken on their visits and sent copies of to Mom. She loved their visits and would also phone them once every couple of months.

Several years ago Joyce died from cancer and Mom called me afterwards to break some other troubling news: apparently Raymond had been suffering from symptoms of Alzheimer's Disease, but Joyce had been covering up for him. Without her he wasn't able to function on his own and his kids made the difficult decision to place him in assisted living. When Mom passed away last year I managed to find my cousin Terry (Ray's youngest daughter) to let her know and pass on the news to Bruce, Steve, Cindy, and Denise. She told me all the kids got together with Ray several times a week and he still had that sense of humor come though occasionally.

Somewhere tonight I know Mom and Ray are together again. He's got his arm around her and is calling her "sweetheart" and Aunty is together with one of her favorite boys once more.

----------------------------------------------------------------
. . . . . noted and logged by Linda at 2:18:00 AM

Comments:

I am sorry to hear that. You sound as if you had some of the best family... I know I don't remember any uncles like that James might but I don't... but I am sorry for your loss and am glad you have good mememories..

# posted by  Anonymous : 12:10:00 AM

 

Post a Comment