Edgar Guest hit the nail right on the head with this one

Today I thought I'd share a poem with you. Not my usual kind of post, I know, but this poem is about an executor. It sums up nicely the fact that being appointed as an executor may be an honour, but it's also a major burden. It's by Edgar Albert Guest, published in 1942. Enjoy!

THE EXECUTOR
I had a friend who died and he,
On earth so loved and trusted me,
That ere he quit this earthly shore,
He made me his executor.
He tasked me through my natural life,
To guard the interests of his wife,
To see that everything was done,
Both for his daughter and his son.
I have his money to invest,
And though I try my level best,
To do that wisely, I’m advised,
My judgment oft is criticized.

His widow once so calm and meek,
Comes, hot with rage, three times a week,
And rails at me, because I must,
To keep my oath appear unjust.
His children hate the sight of me,
Although their friend I’ve tried to be,
And every relative declares,
I interfere with his affairs.
Now when I die I’ll never ask,
A friend to carry such a task,
I’ll spare him all such anguish sore,
And leave a hired executor.

Edgar A. Guest, Today and Tomorrow (Chicago: Reilly & Lee Company, 1942)