Why Can't Young Men Be More Like That...?

I love Don.  Everyone needs to work with Don.  He's just great.  


Here is a recap of one of our very first conversations.


"So, you're Mormon."
"Yes I am."
"My wife's brother and his wife are Mormon.  I may have some questions for you someday."
"Fabulous."
*Pause
"I don't want to join your church.  I just have some questions."


The conversation picked up again a few weeks later.


"Hi Don."
"I wish I were.  Come in.  Sit."
*Interlocks his fingers behind his head and stretches his legs out in front of him
"Question number one.  Why long underwear?"


Oh Don, you are just great. 


A little more background before one jumps to creepy conclusions about this man.  Don (or Dr. H.) is our school psychologist.  He is semi-retired and hails from somewhere in Michigan where he spent a large portion of his career working in Catholic schools.  Don is tall and thin and looks like he was a runner when he was younger (which, I found out, he was--we discussed this when I had my ACL replaced and he sympathized by telling me about his total knee replacement).  Don has white hair and a white beard and mustache and sometimes wears a denim shirt with Looney Tunes characters embroidered on the back.  I really love Don.


When I had a different frustrating job at my school, my office was right across the hall from his.  He'd pop his head in every morning and give me a pseudo-grumpy greeting.  I miss that about my old job.  He still greets me in his fake-grumpy manner whenever he sees me in the hallway, though.  A couple of weeks ago, he popped into my classroom one morning.  We engaged in a lively conversation about Mitt Romney (neither of us are big fans).  I miss my old office sometimes.


Just today he came to my room to talk to me about a student.  Before leaving, he made reference to my leaving the school (yes I am--was just offered a position to teach at another school in a different city).  He asked why I'm leaving.  I told him that this city is not a good place for a single, thirty-year-old woman.  He paused for a moment, cocked his head to one side and said one of the most encouraging things to me I've ever been told.  


"A single thirty-year-old woman like you should not be a single thirty-year-old woman."


It made me feel like maybe I am a good catch.  I mean, if someone I admire as much as Don thinks I'm pretty neat, perhaps I am.


Thanks, Don.  You'll never know how much that meant to me.  Especially right now...