After the service
This fall has been one of those times when the Gordon family—Mark, Katya, Cedar, and Lamar--were catapulted out of everyday living and into the world of finer things—the transition into the next life and all the deep emotions and family ties that arise around this remarkable time.
To make a long story short, Mark’s father, Keith Gordon, was diagnosed with a rare skin cancer over a year ago. He was 89. They tried various treatments but by April of this year, all agreed that it was time to stop with treatments and be present while Keith lived out his days as fully as possible. We expected to see our sailing season interrupted, as Keith’s cancer was already very developed and nearing his brain—but wouldn’t you know it, he lived almost normally for the next six months: washing dishes, watching Westerns, and getting his coffee at the local coffee shop. It wasn’t until the 2nd week in October, as Mark was driving home from his last seasonal commitment (teaching Celestial Navigation at the North House Folk School) that he received the long-dreaded call.
By the next morning Mark was in Red Wing, and within another 36 hours all seven of Keith and Colleen’s children (6 sons and 1 daughter) were on hand. In their usual short order these industrious siblings—Dick, Steve, Bob, Tom, Mark, Bill, and Anne—set up the hospice bed and equipment in the living room they’ all grown up in. Keith arrived home from the hospital a few hours later. Even now, he proved a determined and healthy survivor, and lasted two nights beyond what seemed possible. Surrounded by a family like that, who would want to say good-bye? On Thursday, October 11, surrounded by his beloved wife, children, grandchildren, and one great-grandchild, he breathed his last.
And so an era ended—and another began. With seemingly instinctive knowledge about when to cry, when to laugh, and when to get to work, the family took some time together, and then rallied to do all that needed to be done. Within three hours all signs were gone from the living room as everyone preferred the decades-old memories of Keith sitting in his armchair front and center.
Meanwhile, at home in Two Harbors, we had been living through a howling northeast gale. Early on my dad (Dan Goodenough), our friend Doug, and our deckhand Lanny, and I moved Amicus II to a safer berth in the Knife River marina. Lucky we did, as our regular lagoon flooded once again. Meanwhile, the girls completed a full week of school and tests as well as a cross country meet that included Cedar’s first DNF (“did not finish”) due to a fall, and injury.
So when Mark came home for a day after his father’s death, we decompressed together. Mark sat earnestly at the computer, wanting to write a eulogy that would do his father justice. My dad and I tuned up our guitars to sing and play for the family service planned in just three days. Sunday morning we drove back to Red Wing, and by afternoon the Funeral Home was open for visiting friends and loved ones. Already the Gordon home was packed with all of us extended family members--hugging, changing clothes, and snacking on the piles of food that were appearing on the doorstep every few hours.
The service was for the family only, which in this case meant close to 50 people. No casket, no crowds—just music, prayers, Communion, and the Eulogy—which is a nice name for family time. If there’s one thing the Gordon family enjoys, it’s telling stories. I can’t reproduce them here but through them we were reminded of Keith’s quiet but solid parenting. We all knew he loved to fly planes. The fact that he stopped flying just after Mark (child no. 3) was born, was to Mark a testament to how committed he was to his growing family, way back in 1959. Several people commented on his ability to walk away and not look back once one phase of his life ended. Later, he both bawled out and bailed out his teenage sons more than once but never failed to be there for them, which ultimately resulted in them turning into the amazing spouses and parents and workers that they are today. To me, the service felt exactly right and was a unique blend of family love and emotion, Christian and Catholic tradition, and a touch of Swedenborgian spice tossed in.
The burial took place down in Chatfield where Keith grew up. Solemnly we strolled amidst the Gordon clan gravesites, back to the 1860s. All seven siblings took part in filling up the grave, burying the beautiful urn that was made by a family friend. About 30 of us were present, in black clothes and exhibiting a mixture of smiles and tears. I was all smiles. It’s hard to predict how one will feel at any given moment and my brother’s death forever convinced me that when someone passes to the next life, feelings are highly variable and unpredictable, though all are good and need to be felt! I know for me the brisk wind, blue sky, white clouds, green grass, and trees in full fall color helped me feel extremely happy for Keith, imagining him waking up to youthful energy, no pain, and a clear head!
Afterwards—back to home base, now owned solely by Colleen and inhabited by the Gordon family since 1964. It was late, and we were tired, but that didn’t matter after more pork chops and coleslaw was consumed and washed down with red wine. We spent a long and uproarious evening together. Conversations flowed freely and loudly. So many sisters-in-law, nieces, nephews, spouses, fiances, to catch up on! So many budding careers, life events, moves, and weddings! What a lot of absolutely solid people in the Gordon clan. Even the good-byes were cheerful, since we will all be congregating in three weeks for Luke and Kat’s wedding in Iowa; with his good-bye hugs Luke told us all to “bring our dancing pants.”
No one can protect Colleen from that first morning in 63 years when she wakes up alone in the house, but I think she’s going to be fine. Everything in her life indicates that she can handle this. She is an amazing matriarch, universally revered and adored. “It’s impossible to get depressed when you are counting your blessings,” she tells me when I ask how she is doing.
And here I am back at home, profoundly changed and, of course, needing to write about it! I am in awe. It’s hard enough to bring up two girls. How about 7 children, 6 of them boys? Wow. What was their trick? The Gordon family can be viewed as the anti-dote to whatever is not working with boys today. They were outside, they were rough and tumble, they were allowed to make mistakes without receiving crushing or shaming long-term consequences. They were tight on budgets and strong on commitment, humility, and just the simple fact of doing the right thing, day in and day out. And look how it has served them and all of us who are lucky enough to be recipients of their progeny. I know I stand with 4 sisters-in-law and 1 brother-in-law in my gratitude of being part of such a large, sprawling, happy family, and I can’t help but note that of Keith and Colleen’s 16 grandchildren, every single one of them found their way to Red Wing for their Grandpa’s passing except the two who are in the military and couldn’t get leave—and they sent notes to be read at the service, telling how proud they were to be called Keith’s grandsons.
How did all this come from such a quiet, unassuming couple? Well, we can all ask Colleen their secret. Until we know it, I will just observe that in the final year of his life, Keith really didn’t like to talk about his cancer. Why spend all this time and energy on something as dull as a tumor? One of my favorite moments occurred at the Mayo Clinic last spring, when we were moving into palliative care. With seven of us in the patient room with Keith and Colleen, the doctor expressed her warmth and appreciation the minute she saw us. “You must be quite a man,” she said to Keith. After an hour of discussion, still she didn’t leave. I realized with surprise that she wasn’t going to leave until we indicated that we were done! No seven minute appointment for her.
There was a pause, and then Keith leaned in. “Do you live in Rochester?” he asked politely. We all wondered where he was going with this one. When she answered in the affirmative, he asked her if she would be interested in speaking at his Kiwanis Club in Red Wing sometime that month! Nothing would surprise me at this point, so it was no shocker when she mused about her days off and they made some tentative plans to schedule something in the future. Never one to dwell on his own situation, Keith was recruiting to the end.
Just before takeoff 2006
Somehow, when someone’s earthly life ends, it also crystallizes and takes on significance and meaning. We couldn’t necessarily express it, but it was so clear to us what Keith stands for. It’s something deeply humble, and devoted, and consistent, and reliable. It draws no attention but ultimately creates loving, committed, and lifelong relationships. As Monica Gordon (Bob’s wife) put it, really the only thing to die was the cancer.