Olivia Noel Ray … Life Rewritten

Posted on 30. Nov, 2009 by admin in Personal Stories

On October 3, 2009, Olivia Noel Ray, along with her older sister Hannah, were on their way to run a one mile race as part of a health exposition sponsored by Arkansas Athletes Outreach. The race started in the parking lot of the University of Arkansas baseball stadium, exactly one mile from the Rays’ home. Anxious to get to the starting line, Olivia hopped to the front of the group that had begun to cross the crosswalk after a few cars had stopped to let the pedestrians pass. A driver coming from the South, distracted by the events being held in the parking lot, failed to stop at the crossing, striking Olivia in front of many horrified witnesses. Held and comforted by Hannah and others, Olivia was rushed to the hospital and passed away a few hours later, surrounded, loved and prayed for by her family.

Olivia was ten years, five months old the day of the accident.

Journal Entry: October 21, 2009
It has been three weeks since John and I entered the emergency room at Washington Regional Hospital after our daughter was hit by a vehicle that failed to stop at a crosswalk on Razorback Road. A few hours later, after their absolute best efforts, we left the hospital shattered.

… I have learned much in the days since her death. I have learned that waking up sad can be debilitating. I have learned that even a large fluffy white dog can miss her best friend when she is gone. I have learned that children feel the loss of a friend in the same way an adult does. I have learned the purpose for crying. I have learned that even when you don’t want it to, the sun comes up and a new day begins. I have learned the impact an accident of this type can have on a community. I have learned to be surprised and honored that so many people would take part in Olivia’s memorial service. I have learned that without the strong hearts and encouragement of the people around me, I would not be standing.

And even now I am learning to accept I will no longer kiss my favorite freckle on Olivia’s cheek.

I have purposed not to count the days since Olivia’s accident. This entry will be my only exception. I understand I still have much to learn; this is part of life’s purpose.

- Jane Ray, Olivia’s Mommy

crossing guard wearing a bright orange vest. I wave as I go by. It’s our daily morning drop-off to school, and I have done this hundreds of times before.

Olivia has already unbuckled her seat belt and is reaching for the door handle. But before she completely exits, I catch her and say, “Olivia, be a light.” She smiles and says, “Okay, Mama. I love you.” “I love you too, Olivia.” I watch her leave, knowing she will be gone — but just for the day.

“And Olivia,” I would sometimes add, “Be a blessing. You never know if someone is sad and they just need someone to help them feel better.” I knew that if anyone could make someone feel better it was my sweet Olivia.

Be a light. Over the years I have said this to my children countless times. They all know the story behind the words. It goes like this: Try to imagine you’re in the Razorback basketball arena, and it’s completely black. Suddenly, you see a soft, glowing light. It’s small, yet in that dark, empty place, it seems bright and big. I’d tell them even a small light can make a big difference in a dark place because people are always drawn to a light like a ship to a watchtower.

My inspiration came from a scripture in the book of John that says, “I have come into the world as a light, so that no one who believes in me should stay in darkness.” 12:46
You can inspire people in many ways. A smile. A compliment. Sticking up for your friends when they need you. Volunteering to help. There are many ways to be a light.

Olivia is now gone from us. And our lives have forever, irrevocably changed. All of us, John, Hannah, Naomi, Hope and I, have an empty space in our hearts. Hope recently wrote, “I feel like my arm has been cut off.” When I read it, I said to myself, I know exactly how you feel, sweetheart.

Our pain is deep and very real. I have cried and continue to cry with the ache of this loss, of what could have been, of what we wanted our lives to be. But I cannot escape the truth, that even in my darkest moments, Olivia is in a place where there is no darkness. And truly, with a mother’s heart I ask myself, didn’t I always want her to be in a place of peace surrounded by love? And without hesitation, my heart answers yes, all a mother ever wants is for her to be in a safe, loving, place — I just never knew it would be now and under these circumstances.

And suddenly, in the darkness of my grief, a small light begins to shine that reminds me I was given a delightful and precious gift that I will forever cherish: Olivia. Sweet happy, Olivia. The little girl with the freckles whose smile always made everyone smile, who could climb a tree like a monkey and who always knew that to be a light was the best of things because it helped others.

- Jane Ray, Olivia’s Mommy

A Father’s Perspective
As our family has faced this tragedy, we have been surrounded, enveloped, and carried by the prayers, sacrificial service, and all-out love of lifelong friends and strangers alike. As we first reacted to the numbing news, we did know one thing: We didn’t need a lot of flowers (although we received many beautiful arrangements). But we also knew people wanted a way to express their own grief. So we immediately thought of something that Olivia would have loved and at the same time would give people an honest outlet for their desire to do something life-changing in her memory.

When our daughters reach a certain age, I take them on an outreach — a special Dad and daughter trip. I will never get that chance with Olivia. But we will get the chance to do a number of projects around the world in her memory. We are planning ten projects, one for each year she was with us here, that focus on helping people in the areas Olivia loved or through people that were important to her. Not all of them have been planned, but we know we are going to start with building houses in Honduras and Mexico and helping fund a micro-business project in Tibet.

If you are interested in tracking these projects, or maybe even being a part, you can find more information at www.gorayfamily.com and click on “for Olivia.”
– John Ray, Olivia’s Daddy

Journal Entry: October 15, 2009

It really is impossible to adequately describe the pain we are feeling right now. Personally, I am finding it very hard to make decisions. For eighteen years as a parent, I have always figured into my decisions the affect that they will have on each child. Now a huge part of how I consider the world is gone. Forever.

I feel like a ghost, watching, but unable to participate in a life I once knew.

Journal Entry: October 28, 2009
I feel like a ghost haunting the landscape of a life I once knew but now few things “connect.” I see food and I eat, but it I don’t experience it the way I once did. Images of sports and drama and comedy come on TV and I watch for a while, but cannot find slightest excitement to match the roar of the crowd, the laughter of the audience.

Things that once motivated me don’t seem to register…. And that home I once knew seems to have disappeared forever.

To read more from the Ray Family visit http://web.me.com/janeray1/Ray_Family_Goteam/