Raymond Dean Windsor

When asked by my mother to author an obituary for my stepfather, Ray Windsor, as he had requested specifically from me, I felt enormous pressure on how to quantify a man’s life that spanned nearly eight decades. A man instrumental to my life and to so many he touched – words are empty vessels of such an expressive summary.

Certainly, I could share the basics of any life story. He was born to JW and June and was the third of four children. He was a son, brother, father, stepfather, husband, friend, soldier, writer, student, businessman and I could catalog his life accordingly through sequential chapters, logical and structured. I can tell you that he is survived by his wife, his children, his brother, and grandchildren.

Or I could share how he would completely engage you with his ability to tell the stories of his upbringing with the various characters he encountered. My favorites always evolved around Mad Dog, a character so named because a mad dog bit part of his ear off. Mad Dog had legendary stories – how he had stolen a police car without being arrested or how he shot his .357 at a moving car to prove he could crack the engine block. Hysterical stories anchored by his enormous laugh. And when he was telling a story – he was telling it to you, without distraction, with intention, he was there, present, a light that couldn’t be avoided.

But maybe I write about the darkness, when he served as a frontline infantryman in the Vietnam war where he suffered through the horrors no human being should ever endure. But he did endure. His deep love of humanity never faded despite facing these atrocities of war. While he survived this war, it would eventually take his life later through exposure to Agent Orange. But he was a walking example of resilience, he battled through immense personal trauma and continued to live a life of purpose.

And I can write about the light. His love for my mother and their 41-year romance. His grace and patience were unwavering. His love for reading combined with her love for writing produced a magnetic synergy. A synergy that created businesses, books and adventures and one that lasted to his last breath. His love for her was simple yet astonishing and I can still feel the warmth of their wedding in Aspen on that glorious day.

And I could write about his genuine ability to laugh at himself. His horrible driving, where, in his mind, signs and lines were optional. The time he threw the boat anchor into the lake without the rope, the time he stayed too long at my bachelor’s party, or how the two of us spent an entire Sunday afternoon drinking beer listening to an AM broadcast of a football game while we were in the mountains.

But certainly, while all of the above is true and important. I think the most critical element is sharing that he was a role model of a man. He restrained his judgment, illuminated wisdom, radiated humor, and deeply cared about the people in his life. And it wasn’t limited to his family and friends, even while he was struggling in his final days, he demonstrated nothing but kindness and affection for his caretakers. It didn’t matter who you were – in his eyes, you were important and deserved kindness.

Ray once said to me early on in our relationship, “I will never replace your father”. It was the one time he wasn’t right. He was an amazing father and a tremendous role model. He’s the man I hope to be. Ever forward, Ray Windsor .Ever forward.