A Legacy of Service: A Daughter’s Tribute

Some of my earliest and proudest memories of my dad, retired RCMP Sgt. William “Bill” Raaymakers, are rooted in Remembrance Day parades.

As a little girl, I remember the overwhelming pride I felt watching my dad, dressed in his red serge, marching among the uniforms. I would eagerly wait for my moment to run out onto the road, interrupt the march, and steal a kiss on his cheek. That excitement never really left me. Even as a grown woman, I still looked forward to that moment.  

For the past nine years, I have shared that same pride and excitement with my own three children each Nov. 11. What began as a childhood memory has become a family tradition, allowing me to share with them not only my love for their grandfather, but an appreciation for the life he devoted to serving others.

This year, my dad’s place in the parade will look a little different. Though he retired from the RCMP, he is no longer able to participate as he once did. As I reflect on his years in uniform, I find myself thinking not only about his career, but about the values he carried and the lasting impact he has had on others.

Remembrance Day invites us to honour the members of the Canadian Armed Forces and the RCMP who served to defend our values and freedoms, as well as those who continue to serve today. For me, that remembrance is also deeply personal. It is an opportunity to reflect on what service looks like beyond the uniform: the integrity with which we carry our responsibilities, the dignity we extend to others, and the difference we can make through the way we show up in the lives of those around us.  

My own career took a different path, leading me into nursing, forensic care, mental health and addictions, and ultimately leadership. While my dad and I served in different professions, my own experiences have allowed me a deeper understanding of the trust, responsibility, and human connection that can accompany a life of service.

Over the years, I have also observed my dad’s reputation, relationships, and the stories connected to his years in policing positively intersect with my own professional world in unexpected ways. These moments have offered me a glimpse of the lives he touched and the impact that continued long after his time in uniform. They have also reminded me that the values we live by are often most evident not in what we say, but in how we treat people.

That is part of what I carry into my own work. I cannot say that I chose my career because of my dad’s, or that our paths have been the same. But I have come to recognize the importance of compassion, integrity, respect and earning the trust of others—values I admire in him and strive to embody in my own way. His example has become part of how I understand service, not as a title or a uniform, but as a commitment reflected in our actions and in the way we leave people feeling seen, heard, respected, and valued.

Perhaps I did not understand any of this during those early Remembrance Day parades. I was just a little girl who thought her dad looked wonderful in his red serge, who could hardly contain her excitement, and who wanted nothing more than to run out and kiss his cheek.

Today, as a daughter, a mother, a nurse, and a leader, I see those memories differently. I feel the same pride I felt as a child, now accompanied by a deeper appreciation of the man behind the uniform and the values he has embodied throughout his life. I am grateful that my children are growing up with their own memories of their grandfather and are beginning to understand what his service means—not only to our family, but to the wider community.

This Remembrance Day, our tradition may look a little different, but my pride remains unchanged. As we remember those who have served and those who continue to serve, I will be thinking of my dad: the years he gave to the RCMP, the people whose lives crossed his, and the values that continue to ripple outward through the lives he has touched.

And somewhere in my heart, I will still be that little girl waiting for her moment to run onto the road, interrupt the march, and steal a kiss from her dad.

I hope my dad knows that the little girl who watched him march with such pride will never stop looking up to him. I may have found my own path, but I will always be proud to be his daughter. 

Photo of Alexandra (Alex) Marcia and her father, William "Bill" Raaymakers.