My friend, Mr. Al.

Last Wednesday afternoon, I got a phone call that no one wants to get. My dear friend Susan Smith (known to most people who know me as “Mrs. Smith) called me to tell me that her husband Al had unexpectedly passed away.  To say that this shook me was a bit of an understatement.  I was and still am a mess.  I love words, but I’m not even sure I can find the right words to tell you about my friend Mr. Al.

In 1994, I started as a full time 6th grade Social Studies teacher at Westwood Middle School.  At that time, we were on teams – a group of teachers all taught the same kids and those students rotated between them.  I was the Social Studies teacher and a woman named Susan Smith was the Science teacher on my team.  Who knew that she would end up being one of my dearest, closest friends?

We found out through that year and many more how much we have in common. We were born on the same day – October 15.  Different years of course, but we shared a birthday.  We both are horrible losers, and ridiculously competitive.  Neither one us believes in doing something the easy way, if there’s a hard way.  We spent many, many nights together alone on our hallway.  We walked to the car together many, many nights. The day she left school on her last year, I didn’t think I would be able to teach without her. I’ve only felt so lost a few other times in my life. 

When you spend that much time with a person, you meet their spouse. I don’t have any recollection of meeting Mr. Al for the first time.  We probably ate together.  Since 1994, we’ve eaten many meals together.  Mrs. Smith always laughs and says Mr. Al and I have the same palate.  We both are not particularly fond of many vegetables and both have a tendency to eat the same thing at the same restaurants.

We have eaten countless meals together, been to the movies many,  many times, and watched hours and hours of college football together.  When I found out I was accepted at FSU, I went running down the hallway to tell Mrs. Smith first. I was in her room when I called my sisters!  It was a Wednesday, so I had church, but the next night, Mr. Al and Mrs. Smith took me to dinner. Mr. Al said “they” had a present for me. It was my little library, and my very first FSU anything.  You see, they both got their Bachelor’s degrees at USF (just like me)  but then Mr.. Al went to Law School at FSU.  He was very excited that I was going to be a Seminole.  Mrs. Smith was with me at school all day, so “they” was really him. I used to tell him he should teach husband lessons – he was the sweetest, sweetest man.

Mrs. Smith and Mr. Al got married the same year I was born. Age-wise, they could have been my parents and in some ways, they acted in that capacity.  They were at my graduation from FSU.

I called Mrs. Smith first when my mother passed away.  We had our Mom’s funeral on Monday,  and on Tuesday, I left to go to the beach where Mrs. Smith was staying.  She fed me, listened to me and cried with me. When I left, I was better. I wasn’t OK yet, but I was better.  I’ve house  - and dog-sat for them 100 times.  We’ve had long conversations about any number of topics. We didn’t always agree and we’ve had some very loud discussions. We’ve spent Christmases, Thanksgivings, and birthdays together.  My daddy, my nephews and Mr. Al – some of  my most favorite men in the whole world. 

 

We’ve spent so much time together. It’s been a little more difficult lately, because I’m still working Mrs. Smith has retired and Mr. Al has cut back a LOT on his work hours. I am irritated with myself for letting time slip away.  .  .

Here’s what I know about Mr. Al..  He would  be your biggest cheerleader, but he didn't hesitate to tell you if you were being stupid.   He loved Mrs. Smith, their boys, and the girls that his boys loved.  He loved golf,  tennis , FSU and the law.  And for whatever reason, Al Smith loved me – and I’m  better for it. 

In the musical Wicked, one of my favorite songs is “For Good.”  Part of the lyrics go like this:

It well may be
That we will never meet again
In this lifetime.
So, let me say before we part:
So much of me
Is made of what I learned from you.
You'll be with me
Like a handprint on my heart.
And now whatever way our stories end
I know you have rewritten mine
By being my friend.

Who can say if I've been changed for the better
But because I knew you.
I have been changed for good.

Al Smith left handprints all over the hearts of everyone who knew him.  And because we knew him, our lives are better.