Grief is taking me through layers of history with Doug who I met when I was barely 20. Our lives changed forever when Nadja was born and we never looked back. My parents and siblings welcomed him for he clearly enjoyed their hospitality, exuberance and warmth. He naturally became part of our French Canadian clan.
At university, Doug often engaged in philosophical discussions with professors while many of us sat in silence. His intellect thrived in that environment.
We navigated through unchartered territories, more mature than our age at times and at others, clearly struggling with our lack of experience. Our lives took separate turns but our paths continued to intersect as parents trying to map out the best workable outcome for our daughter. We became better friends than we were partners. We were able to talk openly and spend time together effortlessly. Looking at the last layer of Doug’s life, I see a man whose devotion to his daughter and grandchildren was unclouded and pure.
COVID took a toll on everyone. Doug was very careful about contact for he was feeling unwell. Yet, and in spite of his physical condition and societal restrictions, Doug never lost touch with family. Last summer, he drove to the coast, spent time on Gambier Island with Nadja’s family and then carried on to Lillooet Lake to be with all of us. These were the last two weeks we spent face to face. Nonetheless, we continued to maintain contact through Zoom calls, virtual birthday events, regular FaceTime, political exchanges with Lutz (his ‘husband-in-law’). Doug was determined to learn how to play an online video game with his grandchildren who were delighted to ‘teach’ him strategies. We all wanted to keep the thread of communication going within our family.
The virtual did not quite make up for the countless times we had strolled down Commercial or Lonsdale Streets, or sat at a coffee shop in the West End during his winter visits or played with the kids at Strawberry Point in the summer or… or… Again, flashbacks are streaming in… and so many of them…
“I would exchange many tomorrows for one yesterday” and tell Doug how much he meant to us and how devastated we are that we cannot have one more day, just one more…As we await for Nadja’s visit tomorrow, reality hits me again. Doug won’t be joining us like he did so often at this time of year… wave of sorrow.
Doug was a kind and brave soul who cared deeply for people. No matter how difficult, challenging and disappointing the situation might be, he did not speak ill of anyone. He crafted his words and reactions carefully, respectfully. To me, that is nothing short of inspirational.
We have added his name to the glacier mountain called Cloudraker ‘Doug’ Mountain. You can see its prominent peak as you look east of our cottage on Lillooet Lake, a place he came to know so well. The gruelling eight hour drive never deterred him. The exuberance of the kids when he arrived was his fuel.
Doug will rest in the fort he helped build with our grandchildren or under the walnut tree where he stood patiently pushing the youngest on the swing. His presence is forever etched in the landscape of our lives.
“Hearts that once joined can never be separated.” – Rumi
We love you, Doug.
Lyse
