I am remembering, missing, and deeply grieving a special someone who left this life tragically and way too soon in August of last year. He was my partner for fourteen years and my fiance for many of those years. Douglas would have been fifty-four years old today, having been born on the day the astronauts walked on the moon.
Emotions are so hard to put into words, especially when there are many at once. And how does one describe a person, any person, but particularly one who was so multifaceted, multitalented, and often a conundrum.
I miss him being in the world more than I can say and I’ve cried a lot this week. There is so much I could say. About our life together, about the things we did and shared, about our struggles, about how our story as a couple ended, and how we remained friends and stayed in contact right until the end. Douglas being Douglas, and this being a kind of tribute to him but also my sharing about the Douglas I knew, I will first state facts. Douglas liked facts.
Here are a few facts about Douglas (in no particular order). Douglas’s favorite color was red. Douglas loved cats (and all animals) with all his heart. He understood binary code and taught me how to read it. Douglas was a gifted musician and mainly a drummer. He had a beautiful voice and played many instruments, although he only played one show with all his original songs that he never had a chance to record. Douglas taught himself how to do circular breathing so that he could play the didgeridoo that I gave him one Christmas. Douglas wrote beautiful poetry and his favorite poet was Sylvia Plath. His favorite musician was Suzanne Vega. His favorite food was pasta and “dogs” as he called them (hot dogs) and often while out doing errands, he would eat in the car while I drove. Douglas loved art and even did several paintings, and made cards with different shades of colors on them with the exact amount of paint written next to the painted part, like a recipe, so he could mix that same color again. Douglas loved sci-fi movies, X-Files, and Star Trek, which we watched often, together. Douglas was Mr. Safety (some of us used to affectionately call him) because he was always super-prepared for almost anything. Douglas called me at the start of the pandemic to tell me he thought it could last a year or more and suggested that I stock up on food and other necessities (he was right). Douglas built computers. Douglas once served on jury duty and everyone liked him so much, he was chosen to be the foreperson. Douglas could identify rocks and gems and studied at the GIA. He also designed jewelry which is what he entered college studying at RISD. Douglas was so brilliant in so many ways. Douglas was beautiful (he would vehemently disagree with this fact).
What else can I say, other than this… stating some facts about the Douglas I knew helped calm my mind a bit as I write this, grieving. It helps me to remember him. Douglas was a scientific ‘have-to-see-it-to-believe-it” person, while I have always been more spiritual. He gave me a dream catcher the last time I saw him. Douglas and I had a relationship that was fraught with challenges that were mostly beyond our control, and yet there were so many fun and wonderful times and isn’t that life? The good and the not-so-good all wrapped up in one, to be faced together as partners. I never gave up on us and when it seemed we were drifting, my thought was to work things out by getting help for us. His answer was to find someone else. And so we parted, but not for good. As I wrote, although it took a while to get over the hurt of how it ended, we remained… friends, for lack of a better word. Soul mates sounds too corny. But we had something very special.
I met Douglas in 1990 when I moved back to Long Island from Jersey City where I lived for a few years. I wanted to meet other artists so I posted a flyer (old school) in local stores. He answered it by calling me one day. We talked for a while and he asked if I had any art exhibitions coming up and I did! I said yes, at the Locust Valley Library and the Opening is in a few days. He said that was great because he didn’t drive but he lived right near there and would come to the Opening. There were many people at the Opening who I didn’t know, so I didn’t know which one was Douglas. I figured he would approach me, knowing which one the artist was. He didn’t. We talked on the phone afterward and I described a young man at my reception and asked if that was him. Yes, he replied. When I asked him why he didn’t introduce himself, I don’t remember anymore what he said, but he had a reason. I think he was nervous. As I got to know him, I liked him. We got to know each other better when the artist group had meetings and we continued talking to each other on our own. I think I fell for him when he read me one of his poems. Rare and sensitive soul.
I remember so many things. I remember going to the Greenwich Village Halloween Parade with Douglas and we both dressed up and walked in the parade, then went to see two friends who were doing an art performance in a nightclub downtown.
I remember in one place we lived, Douglas walking in to tell me as I worked at the computer, that there was a baby bird in the driveway that had fallen from its nest. He knew I’d jump up, which I did, and we went to it. It was a baby Robin that I raised for three weeks with the guidance of a bird rehabilitator over the phone to make sure I knew what to do so it could eat on its own, fly on its own as its tail feathers grew in, and eventually be released. The sweet fledgling was released, with Douglas standing by with camera in hand to capture the moment, just a few days before 9-11. On another occasion, Douglas walked into our apartment with a tiny screech owl in a box that he saved from the side of a busy road. We promptly called a local animal sanctuary to take care of him and help the sweet owl get back to nature.
So many stories from our life together… music jams, fireplace drawing nights, cats, riding bicycles, seeing bands, seeing art shows, creating the art magazine, expeditions through the city, the Scottish Games, watching the night sky, making music, running from exploding manhole covers, Ray Johnson, rescuing Nairobi, winged chairs, road trips to Virginia and Massachusetts, going to the IMF at NYU, Mount Joobie, the Watercolor tapes, Pottery Barn, Einstein, Emily Dickinson, accidentally scaring the pizza man on Halloween, Pooka-bear, recording mockingbirds, and so much more.
After my strokes last year, he called me to ask how I was doing, and asked me all the medical questions one would ask if they are familiar with strokes. He was. He knew a lot about a lot of things.
I have so many photos of him and yet this is the one that felt right to include with this post… Douglas walking off, doing his own thing. I remember that day like it was yesterday. Douglas wanted to walk down to the water on one of his last trips to Long Island. It was a cold day for me, but he wanted to go see the water so I waited in the car and took this photo of him in his bright red jacket. I like to think of him like that now, that somehow on that day last year in August, he simply walked off and is somewhere doing his own thing… hopefully feeling a lot more at peace than he did in life, and hopefully knowing how loved he is. I will certainly never, ever forget him.