Memorial service eulogy delivered by Mike Ouellette, 29 Dec 2006.
We are here today to honour the life and mourn the passing of our dear, dear friend Willem Evan Raymond Murray.
While there are no words that can make us feel better, we can use this time to look back and remember the moments Will gave us. The moments that made us smile. The moments that made us laugh. Today, those same moments will probably make us cry, but we will be crying with a smile on our face, because that's what Willem did. He made us smile.
Like the time he showed up at my door unannounced one cold morning in mid February and told me to pack a toothbrush, deodorant and enough clothes for a few days. I asked him where we were going. He stepped back, pointed east and said " 'datta way, Brutha".
Six hours later we were in Montreal, knocking on the door of his uncle Keith. We were both 18 years old and never admitted to making arrangements before we left, keeping up the illusion that we were unfettered youth with no plans but to go where the wind blows us. This marked our first real road trip. It also exposed Will's desire to explore uncharted territory—at least territory uncharted to him.
When Will got sick, the severity of his situation was no secret. Least of all to Will himself—he experienced the acuteness of his affliction each day. Giving up would have been so easy, so understandable. And I'm sure he considered it. But when push came to shove, Will chose to shove back, as he was so apt to do with any challenge he faced. And when Will decided it was time to shove, he did so with everything he had. I found this astonishing and it helped feed my hope. He attacked every task with all his effort—another trait that typified his approach to life.
Some of you may know that Will was a budding writer. About 10 years ago he wrote and distributed a book of poetry. While he will never been included among the great poets of our time, his work accomplished its mission admirably. It helped him hone his outlook on life and it expressed that outlook openly for all to see.
In light of his passing, these words have taken on new meaning. I will read you an outtake from this text that's indicative of the friend we all love.
This approach to life was spelled out rather nicely in one of his poems named "Times."
It reads:
There are times when your mind screams, "don't do it."
There are times that wisdom tells us "don't try it."
There are times logic deems the deed "impossible."
There are times when advice warns us to "stay away."
There are times everyone say's "it's improbable."
And there are times when you look at it all and your heart say's "screw them,"
and you do it anyways because something inside you says "just maybe."
Remember, this poem was written almost a decade ago, before he was accepted to the RCMP—something he decided he wanted and, against huge odds, was successful in achieving. He competed for very few spots against men with more training, more education and more contacts than he had. But when the RCMP completed all its physical, emotional and psychological tests, they chose Will. They knew they had someone special.
When he got the call, I had never seen him happier. Until the day he graduated.
Our friend's willingness to take on a struggle and meet challenges head on has inspired all of us at one point or another to plough ahead when things looked uncertain. This inspiration is a gift Will has given us freely. He has given many similar gifts.
It is up to us, now, as we honour this man with such a kind and generous spirit, to take this moment as a point of reflection. To examine what's most important in our lives. To appreciate and give value to the things that make us happy. We can lessen the grip that minutia and unimportant trappings inexplicably hold on our day-to-day lives and let the moments and people that really matter have the impact they should. We can take the strength these joys give us and use it to accomplish things we never thought possible.
We all miss you Will. And we will never forget you.