A Perfect Poem

The service for Teri's father was opened today with a poem from Edgar Albert Guest, it was an excellent way to remind the gathered group of friends and family about the type of person Gord was:

It Couldn’t Be Done

Somebody said that it couldn’t be done
  But he with a chuckle replied
That “maybe it couldn’t,” but he would be one
  Who wouldn’t say so till he’d tried.
So he buckled right in with the trace of a grin
  On his face. If he worried he hid it.
He started to sing as he tackled the thing
  That couldn’t be done, and he did it!

Somebody scoffed: “Oh, you’ll never do that;
  At least no one ever has done it;”
But he took off his coat and he took off his hat
  And the first thing we knew he’d begun it.
With a lift of his chin and a bit of a grin,
  Without any doubting or quiddit,
He started to sing as he tackled the thing
  That couldn’t be done, and he did it.

There are thousands to tell you it cannot be done,
  There are thousands to prophesy failure,
There are thousands to point out to you one by one,
  The dangers that wait to assail you.
But just buckle in with a bit of a grin,
  Just take off your coat and go to it;
Just start in to sing as you tackle the thing
  That “cannot be done,” and you’ll do it.

- Edgar Albert Guest, "The Path To Home," 1919

The rest of the Celebration of Life this afternoon followed suit and was a lovely string of friends and family coming forward to share their memories of Gord (including beautifully done speeches from Teri and Kevan.) It was a touching tribute to a wonderful man.