Thursday, December 26, 2019
Eulogy for Ray Duncan
by Gerry Mann, Son-In-Law
“How lucky am I to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard.”
Winnie the Pooh, A.A. Milne
Ray Duncan made a difference.
Ray Duncan molded lives and shaped futures.
Ray Duncan mattered.
He mattered to his friends, colleagues and fellow soldiers.
He mattered to his community, his church and his faith.
He mattered to his family, and his family mattered to him.
On behalf of Midge, Kathy and Janet, I extend the families thanks and gratitude for your support, your well-wishes and the outpouring of grace, love and kindness in this time of change.
My name is Gerry Mann, Ray Duncan was my father-in-law. It is a privilege to be part of the family. I often introduce myself as Mister Midge. Those people may never understand the deep connection between father and daughters. Those of you that know the Duncans, know exactly what I’m talking about.
Ray did not raise me as he did with his three daughters. He did raise me up and make me a better version of myself. Ray was more than a father-in-law. He was a trusted advisor, a great golfing buddy and a friend.
Ray was a man of great personal conviction.
He was concerned about his country – so he joined the military and served it for more than two decades.
He was concerned about his community – so he joined several service clubs, raising and distributing funds for worthy charities, volunteering his time to raise others up. He frequently served in church in a variety of roles.
He was concerned about his children – the loving, caring concern of a parent fostering the growth to adulthood, and the loving, caring concern as they built their own families and livelihoods.
Ray was an artist and a craftsman, a hobbyist and a tinkerer. Some of his paintings adorn the walls of our homes. Some of his clocks proudly chime the time, reminding us of his appreciation and talent in caring for the intricate mechanisms and fine workmanship of prior generations.
Ray was an avid golfer, and I took every opportunity to play with him during family vacations. You could count on finding him in front of the TV on the weekends, watching the professionals play. When we called to talk on Sundays, he would often recount what had happened during the tournament, and the status of working the jumble and sudoku puzzles in the daily paper.
You can tell a lot about a family when they face adversity. In Ray’s last two years when his health issues took center stage, it was amazing to watch the Duncan daughters rally to support and advocate for their father. I couldn’t be prouder to be a part of this family.
My parents once told me you are known by the company you keep. Look around you. See who else is in this company. You know of others that would be here if they could. By my estimation, Ray was in great company. You helped define him as he helped define you. Thank you all again for being here today.
And now it’s time to say goodbye.
We’re sad that he’s gone, and we’re grateful for the time he shared with us.
We’re at a loss that our father and friend is no longer with us, and we’re grateful for the lessons he taught us.
We’re all feeling empty and miss his camaraderie, and relieved that he suffers no more.
There is a hole in our hearts, a chasm that we cannot yet cross. We grieve to start the healing, filling the loss with the love and support from each other.
So while the sun seems a little dimmer, and the winter seems a little colder, we can look to a future bright with hope.
We can look to the future with reasoned resolve.
We can look to the future and cherish and the fond memories of Ray.
We must now heed the important lessons he taught us and take our comfort in a life he helped us live well. This is a truly great thing indeed.
“How lucky am I to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard.”
Thank you, Ray.
Rest in love. You’ve earned it.
Rest in joy. You’ve earned it.
Rest in peace. You’ve earned it.
