Daryl Wood's Blog

Years ago my niece wore a bracelet with the letters WWJD. It was a reminder when she was making decisions to ask “What Would Jesus Do?” I was impressed that she wanted to keep herself in a mindset that fit here beliefs and gave her a way to hold herself accountable.

Every person I meet tells me what a nice guy Doug was. No one believed he was 80 years old. All through his head/neck cancer journey he kept going, on to the next thing, pushing through, doing what he could. Since his passing I have thought about his legacy and how I would honour him. Well, on my long walk in the sunshine on the quiet country road today as I pondered a big decision I heard myself say out loud, “What Would Doug Do?”

The answer is easy because I watched him face adversity over the years with an attitude of resolve. And the past six years only slowed him down but didn’t stop him. The last six weeks of his life were nearly unbearable but until the end, he got up and went for treatment until his body said no. In the early days he would have radiation and chemo and sleep it off or rest. Then I’d find him in the backyard with a chop saw cutting wood for trim.

The day after finding out his blood was in trouble he put on a face mask and dove 8 feet to the lake bottom to repair a mooring anchor. He just kept picking himself back up and taking on the next thing.

I’m being gentle with myself as I reflect on the raw and limiting grief I have endured and how I have handled it. And I also realize that I have been in some small way doing what Doug did. I am getting things done. Paperwork. Appointments. All the stuff that needs to be taken care of. Just like Doug did. I imagine I learned this by watching him. Every day from the beginning of his treatments he got up, showered, dressed fully for the day. He could have lounged in pajamas and no one would have judged that as wrong. But it mattered to him so he kept up his routine.

Tomorrow I have a long dental appointment that I’ve been dreading. Now I’m asking myself what did Doug do in the days leading up to his four throat surgeries. He did what he had to do and showed up usually with a little joke for the nursing staff or a teasing comment to me.

What set him apart was that he rarely complained. He didn’t think it would help so why bother. I’m not chastising myself for the frequent outbursts of sobs or wailing that I do. This is big grief and as long as I am gradually taking steps forward I will remember that when I’m stuck, asking What Would Doug Do is probably the best thing for me to help me find my way through.