A couple months before I turned two, I got the best Christmas present ever! That’s a selfish way for me to put it, because this present had to be shared with the rest of my family. What we got was a little brother, Doug. No longer would it just be me against three big sisters … now we were starting to even the odds.
The novelty wore out soon enough, though. Brothers that close in age are not destined to have a totally smooth relationship, and we fought like cats and dogs. We fought like brothers, actually, which may have been abetted by Dad getting us each a pair of boxing gloves one Christmas. But through all the fighting, and sibling bullshit, we loved one another as only brothers can.
From a very young age, Doug had a wicked wit. He sharpened it talking back to television shows; it wasn’t ‘Bewitched’ to Doug, it was ‘Bebitched’, and to him, it wasn't ‘Marcus Welby, MD’, it was ‘Make-us Sickby’. It was juvenile humor; ideal for us in our pre-teen years. And by the standards of kid creativity, I think they were pretty damn clever.
Doug grew up to become a solid, responsible man, one I have always admired. Doug was the definitive stand-up guy. I know from a couple times he pulled my ass out of the fire. And while I was ricocheting all over the place, moving to Bend, Portland, Corvallis, the Bay Area, etc., Doug stayed local, and was a solid anchor my parents always knew was within reach. Though younger, Doug is my big brother, and I look up to him.
Doug and I were both political, and both stubborn. We differed on many issues of the day, but it was never because he was uninformed. He read many very challenging books on history, political theory, and anything else that captured his interest. We often found we had read the same book - but somehow he came away with different, equally valid conclusions than I had reached.
Doug was intensely shy. He rarely started a conversation, even within the family, though in our safe zone, he would engage, and share the wit, humor, and intelligence he kept sharp on his own. It always felt like a small success to engage him in conversation. Beneath his quiet exterior was a treasure trove; unlocking it for a moment or a while was worth whatever secret sauce it required. Then, just as you're enjoying drawing him out, you excuse yourself to the bathroom, only to find him gone when you return. He was never into those long goodbyes that stretch for hours in many families. He would just tell those in the room that he was leaving ... and then disappear.
This year has been terribly difficult for so many people. We didn’t lose Doug to COVID, but we lost him at the very beginning of the pandemic, so our grieving has not been able to include a memorial gathering to honor him. We don't even know for sure what caused it. The medical examiners were so preoccupied with the crush of the pandemic that, once they determined what he didn't die of, and didn't suspect foul play, they didn't dig deeper. It felt very much like the same pattern we had known forever ... we just looked away and he was gone.
Many in my family are very private, so I have not shared much about losing our brother. But today is Doug’s birthday, the first of them since I was one year old, without him, so I make an exception.
Doug, I love you, my brother; and I esteem you more than your humility would likely allow you to recognize. I hope you are safe and warm, and enjoying this day when we celebrate your birth.
