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This blog is created to celebrate the life of Richard Gordon by sharing the many wonderful memories he left us with to cherish.  Please click into this post to read everyones wonderful comments and share your own.

A Tribute to My Father

Memories by Emily, a daughter. As given in Funeral Service September 4, 2010

When I heard the news on Friday I was shocked and heartbroken. I longed so badly for one more phone call, one more visit, one more hike, whatever it might be. I longed for something that reminded me of him.
So I went for a walk, searching for something to remind me of my dad. When I stepped out on the city street, I looked up and saw the stars. Oh the stars. I was reminded, as I always am, of sailing with my family across the Pacific Ocean to islands of the South Pacific. One night, while on night watch, I was laying under the perfect sky of stars as the boat was being carried along the vast ocean leaving only a small wake of bio-luminescence. I felt so insignificant. Under a sky full of more stars then I ever imagined and laying on a boat in the middle of the ocean, two weeks away from land. I asked the stars, in all its vastness and beauty, why would I matter? They seemed to answer me, “love, love is why you matter.” My father loves me, my Heavenly Father loves me, my family loves me. My father was very good at love. He loved his wife so dearly. Patty told me that he always kissed her goodbye in the morning, even if she was still asleep. Patty was his best friend, they completed each other and they made each other happy. He loved his family so dearly.

As I continued my walk Friday night searching for something that reminded me of my father, I came into a field. The crickets, the outline of the trees, the smell of the sage, it all reminded me of Dad. He loved the outdoors so much and we spent so much time as a family enjoying the beauties of nature. I am so grateful for a loving dad that shared his joys with us. Dad loved his children; I can’t tell you how many people in the past few days have told me how much Dad talked about us. He was proud of his children and he treasured spending time with us.

Once while anchored in a cove with a dozen other boats, one of our boat neighbors came to the boat for a chat. They wanted to talk sailing and about boats and places to go. I watched as Dad changed the subject to his family, and then quietly excused himself to go down below and retrieve a picture that 8 year old Megan had drawn him. He emerged again and with pride and love showed these new neighbors Megan’s art. He treasured everyone in his family.

Dad was a great present giver, he gave the most thoughtful and meaningful presents. At Christmas time he would spend his lunch breaks shopping and researching Christmas presents for his kids. When he found them he would bring them back to his office and show them off to his co-workers, telling them how excited his kids would be. Sometimes he would even make them try stuff on to be sure it would fit.
He once told me “I used to worry that my kids wouldn’t get to see lightning bugs and climb trees.” I think this captures the essence of his longings for his children to enjoy life. He loved us dearly, and put so much effort into making us happy. He loved everyone he met and saw them all equally, with the pure love of Christ. He was very thoughtful and conscientious. He loved to help others be happy. Whether it was encouraging them to do the things they enjoy, or fixing their knee, giving a bit of friendly advice, introducing them to one of his many hobbies, giving thoughtful gifts, inviting them on a morning walk, he was always trying to help others be happy.

He was such a respecter of agency. He told me just the other day a pearl of wisdom, “People get so much satisfaction out of doing things their own way. They will be happier if you let them do it their way.” He was so good at loving people just the way they are, it wasn’t about their mistakes or their status. He saw life as a progress. As long as you are learning and growing you are fulfilling your purpose.

Life was so much about learning to my dad. He had a passion and constant yearning to learn. His mother said that when he was young he was so interested in everything and how it worked. She use to worry he didn’t sleep enough because he was so active and curious. That passion never left him. He had a passion for life in general. He loved to live.

As many of you know he loved sailing. This was a perfect example of how he lived his life, joy in the journey. In sailing if you are having a great day, you go about 9 miles an hour. That is hauling and it is truly thrilling. I remember fondly the days of heading downwind with the following seas, seeing whales, and otters. Watching dolphins swim in our wake, riding up and down the waves. Another pearl of wisdom that he told us, “life is in the journey and not the destination, if you don’t enjoy the journey you have missed life.”

My dad moved a lot. He told me once that he has lived in over 40 different houses. Sometimes we described him as having itchy feet. Perhaps people wondered what he was looking for; perhaps they thought he was still looking for happiness. I will tell you what though, he found happiness, but he found so much happiness he wanted to find some more. It was never about the destination of happiness, because he was always happy along the way. He saw some incredible things in his life. He took his families to the most beautiful places. Canoeing trips in Algonquin, Ontario; hiking in the red rocks of southern Utah. Where the rock was so narrow you had to exhale just to make it through (I heard this story a dozen times about how Dad had to exhale just to squeeze through and even still the rock rubbed a hole in his shirt where his pen was in his front pocket, he always loved a good story); He took us to pristine mountain lakes perfect for swimming in British Columbia; and all the other lakes, mountains, beaches, vistas, coves, rivers, and rocks. Wow, he found some beautiful places.

Last night after everyone left I went back to his casket to give another goodbye. As I looked at him and at the beautiful flowers a song came to my mind.

For the beauty of the earth, for the beauty of the skies,
For the love which from our birth, over and around us lies.
Lord of all, to thee we raise, this our hymn of grateful praise.
For the beauty of each hour, of the day and of the night,
Hill and vale and tree and flower sun and moon and stars of light,
Lord of all to thee we raise, this our hymn of grateful praise.
For the joy of human love, brother sister parent child,
Friends on earth and friends above for all gentle thought and mild,
Lord of all to thee we raise, this our hymn of grateful praise.

I think Dad will join the choirs in heaven on this particular number.

Countless nights I watched and helped Dad chart out the maps, read the cruise books, study the tide charts, and make a plan for the next day’s journey. He was always studying, learning, and reading; trying to make the most of his time. But sometimes the next day didn’t go as we wanted it to, but that didn’t stop him from enjoying his day. Sailing happens at the mercy of the weather, as does our lives.

While sailing, you take what God has given you and you go. If the wind changes, you adjust your sails. And if you still just can’t go anymore, you turn on the motor. When you can’t go anymore, as we have felt the passed few days, you rely on someone else, you buoy each other up and you turn to Jesus Christ.

“Come unto me all ye that are labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light. (Matthew 11: 28, 30)”

Christ carries our burdens, fills our hearts with peace and makes anything that is array perfect.
When you take two families and put them together. They don’t fit quite right. A loving dad did all he could to fit them together. And where there was a gap, Jesus Christ filled in, and now we are one family, all together.
It was Easter Sunday while we were sailing the pacific. Dad planned a church service for us on the boat in the middle of the beautiful ocean. He had us sing “Battle Hymn of the Republic.” With tears in his eyes, my father bore testimony of Jesus Christ. “Be swift my soul to answer him be jubilant my feet”. The Atonement of Christ is for each on of us.

On Tuesday as a family we went to the funeral home to see dad’s body. It was a peaceful and comforting moment for our family. As we stayed close together and talked of his life and his love, of our love for him I thought of the resurrection. Job asked: “If a man die, shall he live again?” Yes he will, just as Christ did.
My father loved his body. I think of him on his Hobie Cat feeling the wind and waves and the exhilaration of a good sail. I think of biking with him a few months ago, he had a wonderful time and pushed himself. Afterwards he was so excited that he had pushed himself so hard, that he had given himself a headache. He enjoyed doing challenging things. I think of him using his body to offer healing to others through surgeries. I think of him mastering the art of woodcraft, of making a jewelry box for each of his girls. I think of him playing guitar with his family band, (he was never especially good, but he certainly had a good time.) My father will have his body again.

Just last April in his testimony Dad told us “life does not always turn out the way you want it to.” But dad was such an example of adjusting; change directions, adjust the sails, or just motor. Don’t dwell on the things you can’t control.

We spent a lot of time at the condo at Bear Lake. One particular weekend we were all out playing ultimate Frisbee together. Dad was right in there with us kids, teenagers and young adults. He ended up tearing his hamstring. The rest of the weekend, Dad crawled around the condo because he couldn’t walk. You know, we only lived 1 hour away. He could have gone home. He could have laid in bed. There were a lot of things he could have done, but in classic dad style he adjusted his sails and continued enjoying his time with his family.

Dad was a humble man. Another pearl of wisdom he taught his children, “If you are ever offended; stop. Evaluate yourself; it is likely that it is just your pride that is hurt.”

Dad has 8 kids and we all have fantastic memories of adventures with Dad. Did you know that he took 5 kids under the age of 11 backpacking? That sounds hard. I still remember him telling us about how he would get the little ones to walk and carry their own stuff by offering 1 M&M every 5 minutes. This man had no excuses. Every day was worth living.

A few years ago he had some major health issues nearly take his life. He got to the point that he was out of breath just trying to brush his teeth. But you know what, he kept going. He had always taken good care of his body (a gift from God) and he pulled through. It started with just little walks. And they got longer and longer. Instead of finding joy in hiking and sailing he did simpler things. But he never lost his passion for life, never lost finding happiness. Instead of cycling perhaps it was woodworking, instead of a good hike, it was a slow walk around the neighborhood with his family. He savored the moments he had. His health continued to improve until he was hiking and biking again. He lived life every day.

Dad had a wonderful balance in his life. He treasured his family and spent quality time with them; He encouraged us to work hard and be an influence for good. He was a respected and talented doctor. He loved learning and pursuing hobbies. He served God. He was a happy man. He had a balance; and so when the winds changed, he could still find joy. He enjoyed this life and the joys it had to offer. Now without having his body, he still has joy because he had the balance of loving and serving his God and strengthening and completing his family.

Constant learning. He had a bright mind and used it for good. He mastered his trade and with his mind and body helped to alleviate other’s pain. Giving them the chance to enjoy life more, he loved helping people. He also actively pursued his dreams. He portrayed to us that through hard work we could have what we wanted. Whether it is sailing to the South Pacific, starting a business, pursuing education or having a loving home. You work hard and you make it happen and you enjoy life and your family every single day.

Dad once told me, “You make sure your decisions are centered in Christ. That is what matters.” Last April Dad had his whole family together, his wife all of his children and all of his grandchildren; he shared with us some of his thoughts on life. He said, “It seems that Christ’s teaching don’t make sense. To love those that hate you; to be kind to those that hurt you. But I’ll tell you it works and it brings happiness. The gospel is a recipe for happiness.”

A few days after his passing, it was a rainy, cold morning. I thought to myself, “What would Dad do?” Answer: he’d go for a walk. He would prefer sailing but with the rain he would settle for a walk. So we went for a walk on one of Dad’s favorite walks, Washington Park. We got to the beach that we had shared so many times with our dad; we sat and took in the beauty of the beach. Beaches are so calming and healing, it just feels good to be at the ocean, perhaps that is why Dad was drawn to the ocean. I reflected on a time I had been there before; I had asked myself what was so great about the ocean anyway, why was it so fascinating and soothing. It is full of life and death. The beach often has the smells of death, and yet is so full of life as well. We are taught that all things teach of Christ. And it came to me that this life, has life and death, when you look too closely it can be terribly depressing. But all together, when you look at the big picture, it is beautiful and it brings peace and happiness. Life turns to death and death turns to life. That is why the plan of salvation, God’s plan for us, is called the great plan of happiness.

It seems to me that God gave Dad three presents; his body, the Earth, and his family. And with those gifts, Dad found joy.

We will miss Richard Gordon. We will miss his twinkly smile, his raspy voice, and his little chuckle. But we know our loss is a temporal one. We know that love is forever. Families are forever. I love my father. I know my father’s spirit is eternal and it lives on. Love is eternal. The love he had for his wife and for every one of his children, and we for him, is eternal and it lives on. Our family is forever. I am grateful for a loving Heavenly Father that has given us this beautiful Earth that is full of peace and comfort. I am grateful he has given us the knowledge of his plan for us. I am grateful that 38 years ago when a man was asked about his religion he chose to stand up and bear his testimony, I am grateful my father chose to follow his heart and make this church a key part in his life. That choice has brought our family the knowledge of God’s plan that offers us so much peace at this time. I am grateful for the blessings of the temple and know that through the ordinances of the temple our family is forever.

My tribute to my father is: to live my life, to enjoy my family and this Earth. To pursue my dreams. To work towards a happy family and a loving home. To enjoy life each day and to love as he did. Another great adventure lies ahead.  In the name of Jesus Christ, Amen.

Reflections by friend P. Swenson

Funeral talk for
Richard E. Gordon
September 3, 2010

I remember first meeting Dr. Rich Gordon. Just prior to my marriage to Dana, her young 5-year old daughter, Sydney, suffered a broken arm, which was to become a bit of an epidemic for her. Our family doctor determined that the fracture needed the treatment from a specialist. He said to us, “I am going to send you to an Orthopedic surgeon – but don’t worry, he loves kids, he used to be a pediatrician.” The tenderness and kindness with which he treated Sydney immediately made a lasting impression on, as well as lasting gratitude from, Dana and me. When he and Patty and their family moved into our ward a deep friendship blossomed almost immediately. Shortly thereafter, Rich got me knot biking and insisted that I upgrade to a Cannondale. That following summer we put on over 1000 miles riding together on a regular schedule. We were old enough not to kill ourselves in training. The only time we got the heart rates really going was when we rode with Patty or Michelle. Rather, we would ride along side by side hour after hour. It was during these times that I really got to know the heart of the soft-spoken Rich Gordon.

My favorite hymn, sung by the Tabernacle Choir, is entitled “Consider the Lilies.” The words of the last verse are etched in my mind. “He clothes the lilies of the field; He feeds the lambs of His fold. And He will feed those who trust Him, and make their hearts as gold.” My point is, that as much as any friend I have ever had – Rich Gordon’s heart was pure gold. I basked in the warmth and security of his steady, even, soft-spoken, friendship that was totally devoid of any judgment. He even seemed to be calm and steady when telling me of his new road bike which he carefully mounted securely to the top of this car – and then promptly destroyed when unthinkingly drove into his garage upon bringing to home from the purchase. I am going to miss my friend. I am going to miss his thoughtful and perceptive counsel; I am going to miss steady and dependable wisdom. I am grateful to have, what I consider, a part of him in me – even if it is in the form of several small crews in the bones of my left hand. I miss him as a physician, but now I will miss him as a friend. I have huge admiration for him. For if you knew him at all, whether it be the surgical suite, the bicycle, or the boat – you know that there was a good man, who pursued his dreams, and encouraged others to do the same. Bottom line is, I will greatly miss the goodness of his heart and the effect it has been on me.

Mortality is full of challenges for all of us. Indeed, those challenges, and how we handle the, are an essential part of God’s plan of Happiness. Rich had his share of challenges – sometimes professional, sometimes emotional, sometimes spiritual, and more recently physical. My assessment of how Rich handled the pitfalls of mortality was always the same – steady determination, unfailing kindness, and uncomplaining endurance. I just finished reading a book by NFL quarterback Drew Brees. After a potential career ending injury he – by sheer determination, and by force of will, and against all odds, he came back to the the MVP quarterback of last year’s Super Bowl. He called his book “Finish Storng”. Indeed, no matter what challenges we may face, and what burdens we may be called ot carry – we must do as Rich did and Finish Strong. For the gospel requires all of us to, no matter what is dealt to us, to “endure to the end.” Indeed it is one of the requirements of a successful mortality.

I think of Rich when I read the words uttered by the Lord when he visited Alma and the sons of Mosiah prior to their departure into missionary service. He said to them, “and ye shall be patient and long suffering in afflictions that ye may show forth good examples in Me, and I will make you an instrument in my hands unto the salvation of many.” Rich was patient and longsuffering and no-judgmental in his challenges, and an inspiring example to me, to our family, and to countless others.

It became clear to me that Rich’s greatest possession was his family. We used to visit at length about each of the children. When I reflect on Rich and his family I am reminded again of what I consider to be the greatest lesson ever taught concerning family relationships. You are familiar with it – it is taught in the 121st section of the Doctrine and covenants. “No power or influence can or ought, to be maintained by virtue of the priesthood (note that influence can’t or shouldn’t be imposed by our position of authority – as a physician or even as a husband or father) but only by persuasion, by long-suffering, by gentleness, by meekness, and by love unfeigned.” Rich’s wife and children, as have many of us, have been fortunate recipients of his kindness, his goodness, his tolerance, his meekness, his long-suffering, and of his love unfeigned.

It seems that what we need in sad times like this is a measure of the peace and comfort that can only come through a quiet, yet unshakable, confidence in the Gospel of Jesus Christ. We rely on something to give meaning to our life, and to all that we do and endure. I believe that Dr. Gordon would give us the same advice, as did Mormon to his son, Moroni, as he neared the end of his mortal stewardship. Remember Mormon had recently witnessed the tragedy and wickedness of his people, and the unspeakable brutality, depravity, and carnage of their destruction. In his last words to Moroni he counseled: “My son, be faithful in Christ; and may not the things which I have written grieve thee, …but may Christ lift thee up, and may his sufferings and death, and the showing of his body unto our fathers, and his mercy and long suffering, and the hope of this glory and eternal life, rest in your mind forever.”

May the unspeakable joy of God’s plan of happiness, or our knowledge of our Eternal Father, and of our knowledge of our relationship to Him, of the reality of the infinite atonement of our Savior Jesus Christ; may all of this rest in our minds today and forever. It is only then that assures occasions like this, although sobering and sad, can be leavened by peace, and hope, and comfort – and, when the eternal perspective is considered, even by joy and rejoicing. Especially in the coming days and weeks, may Patty and the children lay hold of that wonderful promise made to us by the Savior “…Peace I leave with, not as the world giveth, give I unto you. By my peace I leave with you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid.” May we ever be found feeling and expressing heartfelt gratitude for these eternal verities I pray in the name of Jesus Christ, Amen.

Memories of Richard from his mother, Doris Gordon

(Compiled from a conversation with Doris and one of Rich’s daughters)

He had so much fun. I never knew anybody that had so much fun. As a child he was the best little boy that ever was. He was born wanting to do the right thing. I have never known a child like that, so anxious to do right. I knew he was destined for something special.

As a teenager he was good as well. Once he was out with his friends and he came home early. I asked him why and he said he didn’t like the way they were talking so he left. He was never influenced by his peers. He was very strong minded.

I suppose he was hyperactive. He slept so little when he was young, I always used to worry about him getting enough sleep. He was so active all the time. He was so interested in everything and how it worked.

He was a great dad. All his kids turned out so well.

He graduated Suma Cum Laude with honors from Duke. I don't think many people knew that. He was going to be a biomedical engineer. He had a fellowship lined up when he graduated. He worked in an externship and found out that the doctor’s gave the orders. So he decided to be a doctor. His wife was in nursing school at Duke and so he needed to go to Duke for medical school. The nursing school manager took the dean of medical school to lunch and they got Richard into medical school in September. At clinic he fell in love with the children, because they healed so quickly; so he wanted to be a pediatrician. He learned how to take tonsils out but they wouldn’t let him do it in practice because he didn’t learn at a teaching school. His wife soon fell and broke her wrist very badly. Rich was so fascinated with the surgery and other aspects of orthopedics so with 6 kids he left his practice and returned to do another residency. And so he became an orthopedic surgeon. (Pause) and then he became a sailor.

Last week, we went on a hike to Cascade Pass. Dad was so excited to go. He’d read about it the night before, and decided that’s where we were going to hike. When we got to the pass, Dad wanted to keep hiking to the top of the next pass, but couldn’t. He told Megan and I to keep hiking for 30 minutes, and we would make it to the top-where he wanted to go. So we hiked on, and we hiked faster than ever because we had to turn around in 30 minutes, but we HAD to make it to the top because Dad believed that we could make it.

One of Dad’s other rules was that we had to stick together. So at the last minute, Megan ran ahead to the top, because if she made it to the top I would have to go to the top too. We hiked to the top of that pass for Dad; to take pictures for him to see how beautiful it was. We made it to the top because Dad believed in us; he always believed in us.

Madison