My grandparents moved to the orchard on Stelling Rd in Cupertino and I know that Al's mom moved to San Jose at some point also. Dad and Al were friends always. Their lives were different but they were always friends. I think that is what makes the best friends in life... being able to touch people that are different. Al and Dad looked like Mutt & Jeff. Al was a tall and dark man and I always thought he was fairly husky to Dad's shorter and slighter and blonde build. They were both very muscular and I remember as a child even... them going at it wrestling each other like they were still 8. Because of his size, Al always seemed to be scary. I thought he was a policeman but knowing what I know...don't think that was ever true. But a child's eyes connect the dots in unique ways.
My early memories of Al were going to his house and maybe going to a beach. He had a car that seemed like a Cadillac... long and new and shiny. It was a big car. And inside on the dashboard was a little metal plate that said "Especially made for Alfred Christopherson". Wow.. they made that car especially for Al! He must have been pretty important. I was easily impressed.
Al had a dog named Rock, a German shepherd. Rock was as big and muscular as Al was big and muscular. Rock was scary and he scared us to death. But the interesting thing was that child's perception. Rock was a guard dog and he decided that Diane and I were what needed to be guarded. When we were around nothing could get to us and we could get to nothing else. Like the water at the beach. He kept his body between us at all times which was a bit frustrating to two little girls.
Al and his wife Karen had no children for a long long time. She was a veterinarian’s assistant. She knew all sorts of things about animals. But when I was about 10 years old, they began having kids (like they were trying to catch up!). They had 3 boys and a girl in quick order. Each of those kids was totally unique and special. My parents loved these kids...Diane and I were growing into teens. These little ones were so fun.
Over the years I grew and married, Al and Karen divorced and he married a co-worker of my Mom's. That didn't last too long. Al was a loud black and white kind of guy. I think that was the hardest thing for him, adapting, forgiving, loving no matter what or in spite of. I don't know what happened to he and Karen. Their house got crowded but Al was treated very rigidly as a child. His Mom was a hard woman and she poured it all onto him. In a way his childhood was one to be mourned except that that which he experienced he perpetuated in his children. He struggled in relationship with each of them. One was generally OK and the rest were generally NOT. They were all good kids who struggled and probably needed some sort of Dad approval to be OK and Al struggled with giving it, until the last few weeks of his life. It did not balance out but it still was a good ending.
Ok.. more. I guess my special relationship with AL began when his Mom died, he retired from GE and needed help with his tax return. His income was very small but the trust K-1 threw a wrench into it for him and he just needed someone he trusted to look at this return. Well, you know we began this special friendship that I really treasured. It is not often you get to know a friend of your parents on that kind of level. But a tax preparer is often like a bartender and folks tell us stuff they would not tell anyone else. And so those years, Al would mail up his tax information and then drive up and pay me (which I never ever charged him for... his return was not that difficult and I so enjoyed his company!) and take me to dinner. It became a ritual that annually whether it was him bringing me the tax information or picking it up, at one end of the process, we spent an evening together. I always offered him to stay at the house. I have a guest room and he was so worried that my neighbors would think something bad of me that he would never consider staying.
I often took Al to local little restaurants unknown outside of our area.. but he liked the big ones, the Chart House... expensive restaurants. I felt guilty because besides paying me for the taxes, dinner was often even more expensive, and then he paid for his hotel room to boot usually 2 nights. His tax return was an expensive one. But during our dinner, Al would ask my advice on the problems that they had with his mother's personal representative who seemed to be crooked and unethical. But mostly we talked about his kids or Kathy, the woman with whom he lived and would have married if the stars had been right. So much of Al's children's problems were that they were very much like him, stubborn and not good at talking. He loved them. He just found it difficult to speak it after he drew lines in the sand.
When other families struggled with their kids, he literally could not fathom how one just let it all go and picked up relationship with their child. It was beyond him. He wanted to beat up the boyfriends who he thought might have hurt his daughter. He just could not let go and move on.
Living with Kathy in Fresno, Al had purpose. He helped her take care of her rentals and he liked working with his hands. But where Al really began to shine was in the kitchen of all places. Since Kathy was still teaching, Al began cooking. He was so good at it he began cooking for social functions. He would get recipies from his Aunt Ruby and from magazine clippings and he would just have a ball playing with all sorts of foods. He loved talking about it and sharing those recipies.
Al also liked traveling. He and his favorite Aunt Ruby took trips wherever they had a hankering to go. Aunt Ruby enjoyed him and he enjoyed driving. It was a win-win. Kathy was getting more comfortable on the road. They bought a motor home or vacation trailer and were looking forward to doing some serious travel together.
In June the year he died, we had a 50th wedding anniversary for my parents in Oregon. Al was like a little kid. He wanted his plans to be a big secret. Every time my parents went on a trip to Oregon, they swung by Fresno and spent a few days with Al and Kathy. He was not a stranger to any of us. But he wanted his attendance to be a big secret. So he snuck into town and of course he showed up at the church where we had the reception. My parents were not as surprised as he thought they should be. My Dad just knew Al would come. His being there was important, since there were people present who shared a part of my parents marital journey but not too many who have been friends with them throughout the entire 50 years. Al was one.
I have a picture from that day.
During the last summer after the usual tax return ritual, I got a call or two from Al. He was so excited and he knew that I would share his joy. He was spending time with his older boy, Eddie. He had spent some time with Kaye, his daughter. Al when happy was always really excited. He knew the time with Eddie was such a gift and it felt so good to him. I don't know if he every said the things he felt, that he was sorry for not being there, for appearing unloving, for time and space apart. But he meant those things and I think he expected to have the time to make up for all the years he was not there.
He spent his last days with my parents who did not recognize the signs of a heart attack. They all thought he was just miserable with the flu. I am not so sure that they could have "made" him take another course of action. He drove home, took a call from a renter, and died in the chair. In some ways it was so wonderful that Dad and he got to spend that those last days together, in other ways the burden of guilt for not doing something about it was hard, too. My Dad misses his friend more than anything. I miss him, too. DKU
No comments:
Post a Comment