Wednesday, March 26, 2025
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Although he was my (first) little brother, Doug took to calling me “little sister” when we were children. I reminded him of this when I had the privilege of accompanying him to his outpatient clinics last fall. It was my way of telling him that he was still in the proverbial driver’s seat. And until the end, Doug kept his place there. Until his last hours of consciousness, he carefully maintained and managed the things around him.
When we were toddlers, I remember at times trying to be the little mother. But that didn’t last long. Soon it was Doug shepherding our littlest brother, Andy. That didn’t last long either, though they often seemed inseparable.
Recently, Doug and I reminisced about the freedom we three children had to explore the fields and bushes behind our house. Those were the days….
Doug also reminded me recently that he didn’t fit into the restrictiveness of a grade school classroom, although his Grade 2 teacher tried her best. From early days, Doug was a thinker and not easily confined in a pedagogical box of any kind.
I have cherished the opportunity to spend more time with Doug over the past year. I would appreciate his latest experiment in acrylics or water colour and he would try to explain to me some of the technical aspects. Lately, we went to the library together and mused about the art of the story.
In the last months, Doug struggled more with pain and weakness, although he almost never complained. Once in a while, I would toss out a one-liner and he would catch my eye and give me a smile that seemed to be lit by heaven. I kind of lived for that.
Over the years we have had maybe a handful of deep discussions about God, ethics, religion, and the spiritual quest. Lately, he asked that we stay clear of God talk. But in the end, we had that one, last, poignant conversation. And I knew then that he would be okay.
I will miss my brother, but I am grateful for the times we had. And I know that I will see him again one day, thanks to Jesus.
