Today, a dear friend…a good friend…a unique friend…has died.

He has been such a stalwart part of the couple that I have loved more than my own parents…for more than 22 years…I can’t imagine what my life will be like without him.

Two of the most important people in the world, Niki and Gordon.

I know Gordon because, in 1986, I walked from Los Angeles to Washington DC with a group of passionate people championing a cause. It was an amazing experience and, at the end of it, I was overcome with an illness that knocked me off my feet. I recuperated in Gordon’s house, lovingly tended by his wonderful wife Niki. The two of them took me into their hearts and cared for this sickly stranger with the deepest kindness I’d ever known.

Almost two years later, I called Niki from California to talk about my post-divorce life. She wasn’t home. Gordon asked me how I was and, after my brief description…totally out of the blue…he boomed, “Well, you ARE coming to live with us, aren’t you?” It was as if becoming a part of their family was a forgone conclusion.

Six months after that, I crossed the country again, to join the home of Les Heures. That’s what the welcome mat said…French for, “The Laughing Ones.”

And boy did we ever. We laughed. We cried. We tussled over philosophy and choices. We LIVED, and I was safer than I had ever been in my life.

Gordon had a pure, scientific mind. He loved nature, sang in the church choir, was a dab hand at bridge, and read exhaustively. He was responsible for me acquiring my very first library card.

We were incredibly different and he never pretended to understand me. But he was there for me, come what may. More than anything, he was Niki’s husband and champion. He loved her, in his own way, so much that she could be available to those who needed her…I was definitely NOT the only one.

The original idea was that I would live with Niki and Gordon for 6 months. I stayed with them for 7 and half years. We just worked that well together.

They have been with me, on my side and in my corner through every major event of my life. Believe me, there have been some doozies that I would not have navigated half as successfully, if it weren’t for my faithful, caring ’surrogate parents.’

Gordon was 97, and not feeling well at all, but the last time I saw him, he gave me the same strong hug I remember from his younger days. I described it like being hugged by an oak tree. He was so solid. So…himself…so THERE.

In wishing Gordon godspeed, I want to say to him “Tak for Alt.” It’s a phrase I saw on many gravestones when I lived briefly in Denmark.

Mark Nielson PhD, explains it like this:

“In daily conversation Danes do not use the phrase “Tak for alt.” As one Dane; put it, “Those are pretty big words.” While the literal translation is “Thanks for everything,” the meaning is greater. A more accurate translation is “with deep and profound gratitude for the bounty and fullness of life.”

Thank you Gordon. Thank you for everything.