Doug had a unique place in my life, and in our family; his compassion, empathy, wisdom, and worldliness were a constant source of comfort and inspiration. He was one of the few people I knew that, when I was facing a physical or life challenge, did not give unsolicited advice. This is a rare and precious quality in a human being. His warmth and understanding were so much more supportive than any words could be.
One of Doug’s favourite movies was “Little Big Man”. In it was a line spoken by a (I believe) Comanche warrior: “There are many people in the world, but too few human beings.” I count Doug among those too few.
I loved how he never went from point A directly to point B. We once spent all day taking a mattress out of his house and to the dump, a job that should have taken maybe 45 minutes, consuming four and a half hours. Waterproofing my back stairs — a simple 2-hour job — took us six weeks. His life was full of exploits and mishaps that made for great, sometimes hilarious, stories…. turning his first time on a tractor into a wild Keystone Cops ride through the countryside, breaking fences and tearing up people’s gardens and fields. Physically taking on a couple of cops who were trying to break up his Easter gathering. Using his charm and humour to smooth-talk himself out of numerous speeding tickets. Facing a frightening ocean storm in his tiny sailboat — the first time he took it out! The list of his stories seems endless and becoming involved in one with him turned an ordinary day into an adventure every time. If people were amusement park rides, Doug would be of the most wild, topsy turvy nature.
His philosophical viewpoints were of such fascinating depth, and allowed for wild explorations into the unknown. Some of these conversations would go on for weeks, with one particular discussion about life being left unfinished. Once he got out of the hospital, I was sure we would have completed it and gotten the entire universe figured out! Now, I’ll never know.
He adored his grandchildren, and I could hear a sense of effervescent youthfulness come into his voice whenever he talked about them. And he loved and admired his daughter, Nadja, describing her to me as an incredibly powerful woman. He would speak in amazement about how she kept the family together, facing her enormous challenges with a ferocious courage. He also cherished his relationship with Lise and Lutz, expressing how rich he felt to experience family with them.
Doug had such deep appreciation for all the people he cared for. Where some people, when talking about others, might occasionally point out the faults or shortcomings in them, Doug invariably spoke about their unique gifts and fascinating characteristics, even when he was in conflict with them! I always left our conversations feeling uplifted, and profoundly touched.
I feel enormously lucky to have known this amazing being, and continue to plumb the depths of my loss with endless gratitude, appreciation, and love. Good-bye, Doug. Like the Comanche chief said in that movie, I hope it was “A good day to die” for you.
Your dear friend,
Chris Moon
Hi Chris,
This is a lovely recounting of Doug’s expansive personality. As his son, I experienced a more limited version of what you describe, but to the fullest extent. When I was an unruly teenager who resented his efforts to shape me into a more accountable human, we kept our connection strong via long philosophical conversations in our down time. Doug was always a vast repository for life wisdom, and even later in life I would call him up to ask what he would do in any given situation. Even recently, I have had several wistful moments where I wish I could speak with him and ask his opinion on life problems, but I can’t, and that’s deeply saddening. But over the time we had together, my conversations with Doug led me to gain different perspectives and always think critically but with grace. Thanks for sharing your experience with him. 🙂