Ode to Mr. Williams

I received word today that one of my favorite high school teachers died suddenly yesterday. Mr. Williams, my chemistry teacher at Fruita Monument, apparently died of a heart attack. I haven't read a death notice or an obituary yet, though, and I'm hoping it's a really sick joke or a mistake.

Mr. Williams was about the same age as my dad - mid-50's, I'd say. He wasn't a tall man, he was a bit shorter than me, actually. He had this crazy hair that would never stay down and it's like all the thoughts whirring around his brain were powering the strands of hair to stand up with the storm of electricity. He also wore these eclectic button-up shirts, made from vividly colored fabrics he and his wife had bought on travels in Asia.

He was a kind person, the sort of teacher who asked how you were and really listened to see what the answer was. He had glasses, was pleasantly gnome-ish, and usually grew a really long beard in the wintertime. This accessory proved to be an occupational hazard in the realm of high school chemistry. I'll never forget the time his beard touched down on a Bunsen burner and ignited during an experiment. But he had a great sense of humor and just laughed it off as he patted his singed beard.

I got to know Mr. Williams and his family a bit more after high school, through unfortunate circumstances when his daughter and my brother were in a near-fatal car accident together. I'll never forget him showing up at the hospital and the look on his face.

Thankfully, his daughter recovered and went on to college. I thought of Amber today and her brother, and their mom. And how it's really unfair that somebody who loved life so much has died so early. And how sorry I am for his family that he is gone and there will be such a gaping hole in their lives.

I saw Mr. Williams the last time in July, at OfficeMax. I was always running into him there or at a bookstore. We talked for about 30 minutes about stuff. I told him I was going to be a teacher. He said it would be great for me to travel in the summertime. He told me a funny story about the first time he met his in-laws.

I'll truly miss his random, colorful stories told spontaneously in store aisles. He was a guy who really lived a carpe diem sort of life.

The only thing that comforts me right now is the thought that he had probably thought about what comes next in this world, or other worlds, and that he was ready for it. I don't think he dwelled on it, but I'm sure he had a belief of what comes next. I know some of you will make fun of me for quoting Harry Potter books, but at the end of the first book, Dumbledore says, "To the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure." I'm certain that Mr. Williams was ready for the trip.

It'll all be over soon...

Isn't that what you say to your kitty that you're putting to sleep? That's what everyone's been telling me about this friggin' joke of a teaching program at Mesa.

Well, it will all be over soon. This week, hopefully! I have a presentation I have to give tomorrow, then my licensure should be taken care of. Yippeee! And then after just a few more short weeks of school with the kids, I'm good to go.

I'm actually going to be very sad to let go of my precious little fifth-graders. I've loved every minute with them, even when I was exasperated because one of them told me his essay that I spent 30 minutes editing was accidentally shredded for his cat's litter box (because the cat had surgery and couldn't use regular cat litter) and was covered with urine so he couldn't make the changes.

Now THAT's more creative than "my dog ate it," right? Gotta give him points for that.