I remember when my brother Doug was a baby, once I think. I remember nothing about Doug between then and until 12 years of age, I think. I remember how handsome he was, even with the cavity in his front tooth. I remember he was built, but never thought about why or how? I remember he was nice to me, as if I desired it. I remember a young person who never knew his older brother. I remember not knowing where his room was in the house, yet everyone had one, right? I remember never taking the time to talk with him or joke around. I remember he played football, but don’t remember ever desiring to watch him. I remember the story of belly flops on the football field and, then he never went back. I remember never thinking about him in school or who his friends were. I remember nothing about his high school days, what he liked to do, or whether he read. I remember no teachers or anyone I knew in Leesville High saying anything about him. I remember being a life guard, but don’t remember Doug swimming about. I remember he like motorcycles, I think and may have taken some long trips. I remember he had a job selling things and his joy was crushed when he lost it. I remember asking him to get in the car when seeing him up on the street trying to get a ride out of Monroe, after dropping out of college. I remember getting him back in college, reversing the paper work. I remember he dropped out again, and I was disappointed, I think. I remember he worked for Ed, then, started his own business. I remember he was making it, and then things fell apart. I remember he was smart. Worked on big motors, and was proud of it. I remember he was his own person, maybe more than most men. I remember visiting him in Texas but don’t if I was kind or a good brother. I remember he was a good fighter, I think. Never saw him fight, but always believed he could. I remember he never asked me for anything, I think – not even a beer! I remember, I think, on a few occasions thinking of him and was proud of his strength, determination, and pride. I remember he spoke of the family and he kept pictures and things of others. I remember not being the brother that I should have been. I remember being there for him when is visited in Mississippi, but don’t know if I hugged him or said I love you. I remember how brave he must have been to be driving from state to state with his dog, and seemingly happy too. I remember his request to let his dog sleep in the house when he visited us, but Brenda wouldn’t let him. I remember he drove off to Ginger’s and I don’t think I ever asked if he needed money. I remember visiting him at Ginger’s house, but can’t remember anything we may have said. I remember he looked bad but always put on a great spirit. I remember he came into the room the day before he died and sat up and we talked a little. I remember thinking he is a tough one, but I really never knew him. I remember not knowing what to do or anything at all when he was in the bed dying. I remember not thinking at all, no emotions when there should have been. I remember not knowing Doug and not ever thinking much about him, I think. I remember thinking about him and that it was over, after I left. I remember him today because I’m expected to. Otherwise, the truth is I wouldn’t have, not out of disrespect or love but because of who I am, I guess. The truth is I don’t remember much of my life in the past, especially growing up, pieces here and there, most of it in terms of the family confused and mixed emotions. I wish it were otherwise. I don’t remember the dates mother or daddy died either. I think about them, perhaps, more than I need to. I think we had a good childhood, but I’m not sure anymore. Life goes on, much like Doug did his thing as everyone else did and is still doing. Can’t say this has been fun, although I did like reading the comments from each of you. Doug is/was a special person in our lives. In many ways, I remember him as the toughest Boone of the final Bill Boone family and, maybe, more like daddy than the other two. That is a good thing, I think. I miss him. We all do.
I Remember Doug…
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