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Inspirational Stop Smoking Story

March 20, 2011

            Doug & Birdie were smokers and I’m talking chain smokers to the max. It was rare to see them both ever without a cigarette in hand. That being said I was never more impressed with their ability to become non-smokers. Here’s the story.

On a visit to Doug & Annette Mangan’s  house (Doug Taylor’s sister)   in Fairfield Bay, Arkansas. Doug and Annette Mangan took Doug and Birdie Taylor by fishing boat to an island mountain on Greer’s Ferry Lake called Sugar Loaf.  They docked the boat, hiked to the top of the mountain. When and Doug & Birdie got to the top, they were both so out of breath, sweating, and hearts pounding almost out of their chests they thought they both were having heart attacks. Being that out of shape an experiencing what smoking had done to them for decades they decided then and there to never smoke again.

           From that day on both Doug and Birdie became non-smokers. They both threw away those cigarettes and that was that. No classes, no cutting back, no trying just stopping then and there. This little trip and life changing decision I think happened some time  between 1990-1995.

My persective Steve Taylor

March 17, 2011

DOUGLAS TAYLOR  1914-2011 96 Years Old.

As I stop for a while and think about Uncle Doug, I have only some brief snap shots of his life. 

I did not know him as a child. I did not know a man bigger than life.  I saw a man in his later years. Years of wisdom gleaned, years of some regrets that he could not settle nor come to terms with. 

You see, we see or behold others through our own lens of perception.  It is shaped by emotion and memories.    It is not the person we see but what we interpret from our past experiences that create the image of thought.  We filter through our emotions and bring forth what we believe is real.  Most of it is only illusion.

The time I spent with Uncle Doug and Aunt  Birdie began in 1998 or thereabouts.  I worked as an insurance storm adjuster and the company had me deployed in the Twin Cities.  I remained in the area almost 3 years.   Thus, I could spend time with the two of them.  

Every few Sundays, I visited Uncle Doug and Aunt Birdie.  We spent many hours talking.  We went to  museums, restaurants, and outings in the local parks.   Other things he loved was his beloved cabin up north.   We occasionally went up to the cabin and spent the day.  I remember so well the huge fire place that he and his kids helped build.  It came from the cobble stone of part of down town St Paul.  He apparently salvaged a great deal of stone and the family built the fire place, then built a cabin around it.   There was a lake near by.  We never swam nor canoed but he and Birdie walked down to the lake and you could see memories well up within him of days past. We had fun at the cabin.

Another summer, there was a big storm and I being an insurance adjuster took a look at the roof and determined it to have hail damage.  Uncle Doug did not seem to be limited at all. Though he had hip replacement, he attempted to climb on that roof.   He was so grateful that I was able to help him with the insurance company to have the damaged roof replaced. I recall he invited my new bride Emilie and his bride Birdie to the cabin for a weekend.   

He went through additional physical issues back then.  As I recall, he had a brain tumor.   It was a serious situation and the surgery alone was very risky.  We talked a bit about that and we remembered that we were not mortal beings and he was in God's  hands.   As it went, the first big break was that he survived the operation.   This was about May 30th 2000. There were problems, he lost sight and nerves in one eye.   Birdie was always by his side helping him along the recovery stages.  

Uncle Doug was there for us.  I met my bride in the Twin Cities.  We married in Minnesota.  He and Birdie were really our parents at the wedding.   My mother and step father were a no show.   So, I have to say that Uncle Dough and Aunt Birdie were the closest representatives to having a father and mother at the wedding.  We went through some challenging patches in our lives.  The biggest was losing our baby to SIDS.  Though they were not able to make it to the funeral, they were so very kind and compassionate.   For, they too lost a very young child and could relate to the pain we were feeling.

Uncle Doug had some interesting qualities that sometimes seemed over the top.  He was extremely frugal.  I used to take him shopping.   I swear he nearly looked at every item in the store to determine the best price.   I mean it took forever to shop.   He liked avocados but they cost money and he did not like spending it.  Was this the Scotsman  within him? Possibly. But he grew up in The Great Depression. Back then, everything was rationed and the simplest things such as tin or what we considered garbage had some value to it.   Thus, he hoarded and accumulated what many would consider junk, but to him it might have been seen as treasure.  

I recall one cold day we were out and about and then drove home.  He lost a glove.  He was very up set to the point of nearly tears.  We prayed about it and drove back and found his glove in the snow.  He was so happy, it could have been Christmas.  

Another thought that came to mind was the story during their poor child hood that Doug's 11 year younger brother had no gifts for Christmas.  Doug took his little brother Theodore's  wooden toys and painted them and wrapped them as if Santa took them and had his elves do some overhauling and upgrading.  Doug later helped house my mom and dad as they were just starting out as newly weds.  He was rough on the outside but he had a very tender and generous heart. 

Restaurants could be a great opportunity to see frugality as well.  He did not waste any food at all.  He had just put some food in the take out container and it dropped to the floor.  If you never were around for an emotional outburst of speaking in tongues, this was the opportunity.  He let out such a slurry of words that even the devil himself would have taken notice.   Now for many, that would have been an embarrassing moment.   I have learned with Uncle Doug's help that these moments can bring out comic relief in my most inward parts.  Yes there was an outburst of unimaginable vocabulary and high volume, well enough that most everyone in the restaurant turned around.  Then there was the pregnant pause,  silence of shock and awe.   Breaking the silence came from me:  “And you should see what he does when he spills coffee!”  You could nearly hear the applause from the crowd.   So, in a way, he really showed me that all of the BS we take in and make part of us is really totally unnecessary.  Seriousness has it's downfall.

Yes to a small child, such outbursts would be scary and leave wounds, but I did not see a mean old man but a child in a big man suit that had the weight and fears of the depression, of making certain that there was enough for the family to survive on and all of the other attachments that come with growing up, helping to raise and support the his brother, sister,and mother and a wife and children.

I did not have the most pleasant child hood either.  My dad was scary sometimes too.  He left us when we were growing up. Uncle Doug did not leave his post as a father and provider.  I give him much credit for that.  My father passed on at age 55.   Uncle Doug had very similar mannerisms and emotions as my own father.  But, seeing him when I was an adult, I had the blessing of having a bit of my father dwelling in him.  Uncle Doug did fill a void of my childhood having a dad like presence to look to.  I did not have my dad, but I had the next best thing.  I had to cut through the crap of my not so great dad and see and cherish the bigger parts of what a dad would represent.  

Uncle Doug had a very tender side to him that some may have seen and I and my wife were able to see.   I recall one Easter he said he was too busy to visit as he was helping the children at church coloring Easter eggs.  He really made it his mission to take care of Birdie as best he could.  I remember we were to go out to eat Sunday brunch.  We could not find him.  I finally found him in the basement cleaning Birdie's underwear and making sure everything was perfectly clean.  

He also had a deep spiritual side to him.  I do not know what others know as I only knew him and Birdie.  He really held deeply to God and had a strong faith in things.

He loved his Kaiser Fraiser 1951 blue teal car, he and Birdie loved to dance.  When Birdie moved on to the next plane, he made the biggest send off he could with bagpipes and all.

A couple of years ago he became very ill and most of us thought it was going to be the end.  My brother Thom wanted him to know he was loved very much.  Thom as I recall purchased a phone card and gave him the code numbers over the phone so he would have a life line of communication and connection if he needed it.  So he did call out while he was recovering and recover he did. So well he fooled us all and moved back into his house.

This last year (2011) I believe was especially challenging for him.  I would call him once or twice a month.  He really was not too concerned with how he was doing but was more concerned with how we all were doing.   He would offer his fatherly advice when he could.  He always was thrilled when my wife Emilie would talk to him.  The female voice really lifted him up.   Around Christmas he seemed more sad and felt isolated.  It did not help that this last winter was one of the coldest and snowiest of many years.   I would check on him by phone and he was always so grateful for the call and he would also say such good things about his care giver.  I do not recall her name but he was so happy when he was able to go on a boat ride with them I believe last summer.   Thanks so much.  He also had great praised for David Long whom he called his angel.

It was interesting that the last few weeks he called us twice.  He told me he missed Birdie so much and he cried.   I assured him that they would meet again and in a form that was free and strong.  I have faith that this is so.  I hope that it is so.   It just seems such a waste of being if it were not so.

My mother passed on 3/1/2011.  We were indeed sad and we did tell Uncle Doug about her passing.  He was sad as well. 

My mom reminded us that we have a REAL SELF which is the spiritual being of us.   This REAL SELF organized matter to a form that we could recognize with the senses.   But this was only a projection of the REAL. Once the thought that made the form leaves the form, the organization of that form, the shell remains and eventually become disorganized and vanishes. But this is just the tip of the SPIRITUAL ICEBURG so to speak.  The part that is formless is the biggest part.  It came here to learn, grow and bless.  The real Douglas Taylor leaves various impressions on our thoughts and memories.  He is no longer encumbered by limited form.  Hopefully we will inculcate the good and recall what good shaped and blessed us by his presence.

This death process for us mortals is painful to watch and experience.   Coming into the world is also a messy and not overly elegant experience.   Aunt Annette had a friend that collected caterpillars and fed and nurtured them until they made their transition to a butterfly.    This passing through is very challenging.  We come to a point of surrender.  Now with Doug, he was tough and stubborn.  I believe that toughness kept him around so long.   He is now is like the caterpillar in the cocoon.  It seems that what was is ending.  But there will come a struggle to burst forth.  We here can support him in prayer.  Though everything we  see seems to be ending at this stage, it is only the birthing into the plane of the non physical, just a step in the further evolution and growth on his journey with God.

I am sending this to let you all know what little I knew of Uncle Doug.  And also want Scott to know that he told me he was so very sorry about his outburst two years ago and that he did not know how to make things right.  He also mentioned both his children were cherished and the grand kids as well.  

I recall Uncle Doug did cherish his ancestors and family history.  Our thoughts and prayers to you from the Taylor Clan.

Steven and Emilie Taylor

P.S. We went to square dancing, concerts, looked at fire works and watched golf on Sundays and  we worked together in his gardens with Birdie supervising. To some he may come across as tough and rough but he really was a very kind soul.

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