Douglas Michael Stickels was a musician and a traveller; a risk-taker and a butcher; a cherished husband, father, and grandfather. In each of these roles, he enjoyed successes with a restrained humility and endured hardship with stoic grace, exemplifying the traditional British “stiff upper lip”. Even as vascular dementia ravaged his mind, Douglas remained charming, witty, and interested in life, peacefully passing away in the attendance of family on May 8th, 2019, in Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada.
Douglas grew up in England; his family moved around the country frequently as his father was a member of the Royal Air Force. He grew up in the shadow of WWII; during the Blitz, he would collect pieces of metal from the downed aircraft. In the 1950's, he was conscripted into the British Royal Air Force, where he would eventually attain the rank of corporal. For part of this time, he was stationed in Singapore. Douglas relished the opportunity to travel abroad, away from dreary England; he greatly enjoyed the tropical climate, the beaches, and the people. Douglas had a love for learning, but, forced to enter the work force to support his family, he was unable to attend university. Having found a dearth of opportunities in postwar England for a young, uneducated working-class man, he came to Canada on a whim in 1957. He knew no one and next to nothing about the country, drawn across the Atlantic only by the vague hope for a better life. The tedium of boring jobs pushed him across Canada to Vancouver, where he found plenty to keep him occupied, including a lively folk music scene (he was an avid singer and guitarist), decent jobs, the mountains, the sea, and the love of his life: our mother, Dona Dilling. They wasted no time and married quickly after a whirlwind romance. Together for over 50 years, they were separated only by Dona’s sudden death in 2016.
Douglas ran a successful butcher store at West 33rd Avenue and Mackenzie – “Doug’s Fine Meats”. Douglas considered his customers his friends, and everyday he looked forward to heading to the store to see them. He took great pride in serving the best meat he could. When it was slow, he could be found playing cribbage with his staff, his butchers block serving as an impromptu card table.
In his late 60’s, a heart attack forced him to retire. It was a hard adjustment for him to make, but, like everything else he did, he took it in stride. In retirement, Douglas filled his time solving The Time of London’s cryptic crosswords, taking long walks around Dunbar, gardening, and studying history. In his 80’s, he took up playing the guitar again, to accompany himself singing. Out came the old songbooks and he took weekly lessons at Rufus Guitar Shop. While his guitar playing didn’t progress much, he could still remember the words to all the old songs. With his teacher, Sarah Wheeler, he sang some wicked duets. Their lessons were the highlight of his week.
When it was time to go into care, he, of course, did so with dignity. He spent the better part of two years at Broadway Pentecostal Lodge. His time there was a blessing. The staff and volunteers were kind, supportive, always ready to joke with him, and helped him to live as fully as he could. Being so near Granville Island was a treat, and he loved going for walks to the Island to get tea or pastries.
From his final years, those around him learned an important lesson: eventually, we will all lose our health and our memories; however, these losses are uncontrollable, imposed upon us by biology or circumstance. As Douglas’s life shows, we have agency only in how we respond to the whims of fate. Being able to accept misfortune with grace and laugh in the face of adversity is what makes a life truly worth living.