This is a poem that was shared at Dougs funeral.
Flight is freedom in it's purest form,
To dance with the clouds which follows a storm;To roll and glide, to wheel and spin,
To feel the joy that swells within;To leave the earth with its troubles and fly,
And know the warmth of a clear spring sky;Then back to earth at the end of a day,
Released from the tensions which melted away;Should my end come while I am in flight,
Whether brightest day or darkest night;Spare me your pity and shrug off the pain,
Secure in the knowledge that i'd do it again;For each of us is created to die,
And within me I know,
I was born to fly.- Gary Claud Stokor