So many people I know are grieving the loss of loved ones. Some are recently gone, but others have been gone longer than we care to acknowledge.
In fact, today is the 25th anniversary of Ray’s passing.
Twenty-five years.
It feels like yesterday and like a lifetime away at the same time.
For those of you who don’t know, Ray Noll was my first husband. He was diagnosed with Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia (with PH positive chromosome, an important fact that let us know at diagnosis that it was unlikely he would survive this illness.) He was diagnosed in July 1996 after experiencing shortness of breath, night sweats, and other unusual symptoms. As a second degree black belt, Ray was very physically fit and the onset of these symptoms was pretty sudden and concerning.
After his diagnosis, he was randomized for a trial of chemotherapy, which was the treatment method he wanted. The other option was a bone marrow transplant, but we would have had to travel to Fred Hutchins Cancer Center in Seattle, and Ray did not want to die so far from his parents. Plus, finding a match would have delayed treatment.
After aggressive treatments (“red devil”, anyone?), losing his long curly locks, and gaining weight from steroids, Ray achieved remission in 1997. Losing his hair and gaining weight were both devastating to him, but he was glad to be alive. We were in the process of building a house during 1997 and that was a wonderful distraction for him. We moved into our new house in September of 1997, and Ray was so excited to finally own his own house. Alas, the joy was short-lived.
He woke up one day in April 1998 and said, “it’s back”. And sure enough, it was. We traveled to University Hospitals of Cleveland Cancer Center for several months of treatment. The goal was to achieve remission a second time so he could have an experimental cord blood transplant. While these transplants were successful on children, it was still an experimental treatment for adults. Only about 30 had been done to that point. Unfortunately, remission was not to be achieved and we returned home (in the middle of the night after Ray made a sudden decision to “leave now”… a story for another day). He continued his treatment under the brilliant Martin Hyzinski, overcame meningitis, paralysis, loss of speech, and a variety of other challenges. He passed away on the morning of February 6, 1999, after contracting pneumonia. His weakened body could no longer fight the infection, and the cancer had taken over due to the cessation of treatment while battling the meningitis.
I think it’s really important to remember those we have lost, and reflect on all the lessons they taught us. Ray wanted nothing more for me than to “be happy” and “to finally have a baby”. I did both, and I know that makes him happy.
He was a joyous person, full of life and energy. It was a testament to him the number of people who surrounded his death bed for 3 days, 24/7. His childhood friends, band mates, karate buddies, family and friends all came to be with him, and hundreds of people attended his viewing and funeral. I strive to be that kind of friend; we all should.
His musical prowess started in his early years when his mother made him play the accordion, which he promptly disassembled, used a hair dryer to blow through the bellows, and played like a piano. Having never taken a musical lesson in his life, he was one of those innate talents who could just play anything. Piano, drums, guitar. He even taught himself to play the mandolin. “Maggie May” after two days of owning the mandolin was quite impressive. I like to think that my son is channeling Ray’s musical talents!
The whole process of watching someone so young and vibrant fight to stay alive changed me to the core. I was only 36 when Ray died, but it was a lifetime of lessons in those 2 1/2 years. That life isn’t always fair, and it can turn on a dime. That bad things happen to good people. That life is precious. How to be a caretaker and to not take for granted your own health. How to be grateful for all days, good and bad. How to be an advocate, fighting doctors and insurance companies, alike. How to ask for help and graciously accept it. How to grieve and yet move forward, to honor them through both processes. How to pay all that love and support forward.
Remember your loved ones. Reflect on their lessons and your time together. Keep their memories alive but don’t be afraid to live your life. They would want you to be happy.
To all those remembering Ray today, thank you!
And a Happy Anniversary to my parents in Heaven.
IMDb: Gone But Not Forgotten