Remembering Gordon

Everyone has a friend they will always remember. My friend Gordon, was one of those and at this time of year, especially, I remember him. Gordon was a rare person who cared more about people in general, than most do. When he went about his work, or play, he took all of it seriously. Nothing was done in half-measures. If it were a pie to be baked, the ingredients were meticulously portioned out and placed into the mix with great respect and care. Just as he would, his friends, he entered completely, his personal self, into whatever he was doing. During this April, this daffodil time of year, it was for him, the season to go to a bulb farm in the Fraser Valley and meet with hugs, the owners John and his wife, to select, from their vast array of varieties, armloads of daffodils. The gorgeous blooms were not for him, but mostly for his friends, and particularly, the more mature ladies he knew. Gordon loved his ladies, and he had legions of them, literally, because he was a great fan of the Royal Canadian Legion and the women who kept its wheels turning. He also took joy in having a pint or two with his compatriots with whom he shared anecdotes around the table. He, who  never forgot November's Remembrance Day and the taking to schools of poppies so that children would also never forget the sacrifices of previous wars, put his time to it faithfully. The dedicated ladies of The Legion, were charmed as he explained to them, the various kinds of daffodils: some having scent and others with assorted "plumages" that they would be receiving. And always a grateful, smiling kiss was planted on his white bearded cheek along with a giggle of thanks. It was an honour to see this annual display of such truly loving generosity. Gordon was known by hosts of those who benefitted by knowing him and experiencing his loyalties. The greatest love of his life was rugby, a rough and courage-inspiring game, that he participated in wholly. He wasn't a big man, but his strength was his determination, and that goes a long way on the field. He, not only played rugby with all of his heart, but he also saw to it that the continuance of the game was met. He was inspired in turn by the women and men who also loved rugby as much as he did. You would see him at the age of eighty, strolling up and down the field calling out encouraging words to his teams, sometimes going a bit further than he should. The women and men on the field recognised his voice and heeded his advice. Then afterward, in the clubhouses, when wins were celebrated or losses bemoaned as learning experiences, he gave his encouraging words. He knew what it was like. During his later years before cancer claimed him, you always recognised his now slower pace up and down the field, but expected him to be there - and he was. Gordon will not be forgotten by all those who miss and love the memory of this special man.