My favorite Ray story

Over the past month I have endured the most tragic loss of my life - the one of not just a best friend, companion, or brother, but instead a loss within myself. With all tragic losses comes pain and grief, but somehow I find this different; you meant so much to me and my life that I feel as if my heart has been torn out and filled with emptiness. Every day I find myself in a situation where I have to say, "Yeah, me and Ray did that ... ", regardless of the conversation or what it’s about. I don't know anything in my life that I have enjoyed or accomplished that does not directly involve you or your support. Since the accident everyone keeps telling me how we were like 'an old married couple', but what they don't understand is that unlike old married couples, we absolutely LOVED being with each other. All you have to do is look at my foot print on your dashboard to tell that. As gay as it sounds, how many times have people heard us say, "If Ray was girl, I'd marry him" or “I love 87”. And although I knew we weren’t going to get married, I still cannot imagine getting married without you standing beside me as my best man, or being in the waiting room when I have your first godchild. And speaking of which, I haven’t decided on a name yet, but Christopher Darby is a front runner.

Since the accident I have been asked to tell funny stories about your life and things we did together, the purpose of this blog. Surprisingly however, I find it very difficult to think of any one story that would adequately portray who you were. You would think I would have millions of stories but the problem is my whole life is a story about you. From the first night we spent together at Windy Hill you have been my rock.

In lower school you made me stop clinging to Mom's hood and actually made me look forward to going to school. In the fourth grade when my dad passed, to everyone’s surprise I bounced right back. Why? Because from 8am till dark you made me the happiest a kid could be, laughing till my sides hurt. In middle school, I became the "bully", a title you heavily contributed to me earning. At your funeral Alex Vick said to me, "You know, yall used to pick on me in middle school, right?” I just kind of smiled and nodded but knew she didn’t have to worry anymore because you were gone, and without you, the jokes are gone too.

It was also those middle school years when you taught me how to fish - the beginning of a recently ended era. As much as everyone thought of “John and Ray, the river fishing masters”, I must admit from the time we had that six foot leaking jon boat that had to be paddled up and down the river, you were the Captain. As we entered high school you fell in love with girls, and I was determined to get my boyfriend back. I spent the next couple years trying to make you not such a lover, while you spent them hiding from me in garage, doing what Cameron does now. .. haha :) But unlike most friendships that live and die, we never went ONE day without talking and laughing.


Senior year I was once again faced with death when Charles died. Like always, you never left my side and helped me bounce right back. He passed during football season and the pain of having to play each game without him there was almost overwhelming, but you in the end zone drinking liquor, hooping, hollering, and blinding the refs with your Bronco headlights was just enough to keep me going. Nothing made me as happy as when we would get down near the end zone and I would hit somebody, not so we could win or force a turnover, but just so I could get up and watch you obnoxiously celebrate as if you had done it yourself. After graduation, where we wore flip flops and you talked ‘Double D J.’ into letting it happen, you went to Radford, and me, HSC.

After freshman year I can remember everyone telling me how terrible my decision to stay home would be and how much I needed to go back to HSC. But like always you didn't say that. I can remember the day I had to make the crucial decision, I called you with my normal, "Dudddeee, what do I do?". You said, "Do what’s best for you. Go to Paul D. and move in with me in Radford next year. Everything will be fine." And so I did, one the best decisions of my life ... because of you. Over the next year we would become roommates and even closer than ever before. After I moved to Blacksburg we didn’t know what to do with ourselves - 45 minute cell phone chats daily, weekend cookouts every Friday night, and Facebook rants about nothing all time. But since we didn’t get to see each other as much as we would have liked, we decided a solo trip down to Fla. for spring break was exactly what we needed. You were short on funds so I made a spreadsheet that made the trip look official. Little did they know, we fished for half the time we portrayed in the spreadsheet, and took the rest of the cash to Daytona. "You’re wild." However, while at Daytona instead of chasing women and going to MTV beach parties, we sat on the beach side by side, drank, and laughed hysterically at people and stupid stories alllll day. ... Remember the "Hot Lesbian Theory"? hahahaa God your stupid.


During this past summer you worked and loved every second of it. While on your days off we would go to the beach. Remember your "Top 10 Things Not To Do While Becoming a Sheriff's Deputy" list? haha I think you did em all buddy. I had so much fun this summer, I even drove six hours and skipped my first day of summer school just because you called me and said "come". After I went back to summer school and you moved into the ‘putment’ that T and I so eloquently painted over the summer, we didn't see each other as much, but the daily calls became more like 4 a day calls. The Tuesday before the accident when Meredith was gone to Mississippi we laid in bed and talked for ..... I’m embarrassed to say ... 2 1/2 hours. I can remember being curled up in my bed holding my sides laughing so hard, about nothing, just listening to you. The day of the accident, you called me so many times lying about that sub-par blackfish I had to tell you to shut up. It wasn’t even that big dude. Not to mention, you told Jammin’ about the secret blackfee hole. And to top things off that would be last picture you would take and become the front page of the Tidewater News - Ray with a big nasty blackfish. Atta boy. Real Classy. And lastly, two hours before the wreck you wrote on my facebook “Tommy Bahama”. I never got a chance to tell you, but I loled.

So here I am, at Tech, because you were at Radford, doing Building Construction, because me and you built forts and jon boats, in a one bedroom apartment, because after living with you I realized it was actually impossible for me to live with anyone and enjoy it, listening to music through your speakers with your old iPod, and ironically wearing a pair of your socks. So from now on when I am asked for a good “Ray Story”, the one I’m going to tell is the one you coauthored, the story of my life.
So until we meet again, thank you so much for everything. I love you. And PS, how about getting a boat ready because when I get there, me and you are going to the river.