Al, as so many others have said, graced our lives in Bothell.
He exuded joy -- even at 7:30AM -- and he was always in early.
With a bounce in his step and smile on his face, he brought light into AT&T.

This is a meditation before Kaddish, the Jewish prayer for the dead, that my uncle gave me when my brother died.  It brought me solice and has been meaningful for others with whom I've shared it; it seems to speak of Al:

When I die give what’s left of me away
to children and old men that wait to die.
And if you need to cry,
cry for your brother walking the street beside you.
And when you need me, put your arms around anyone
and give them what you need to give me. 

I want to leave you something,
something better than words or sounds.
Look for me in the people I’ve known or loved,
and if you cannot give me away,
at least let me live in your eyes and not in your mind.

You can love me best by letting hands touch hands,
and by letting go of children that need to be free.
Love doesn’t die, people do.
So, when all that’s left of me is love,
give me away.

I had a chance to meet Al when he gave me a quick learning session re: marquees/panels last year. He was a very good instructor. He took the time to teach me the high-level overview of marquees/panels and ensured me if I get a new marquee assignment, he will be there to help me out. He was very helpful and very approachable, which is a very good trait for a team member. Then we got to talking about life outside work. He mentioned he lived in Fremont, CA. I was like - "I lived 15 minutes away from Fremont and I'm always in Fremont!". So Al mentioned when he visits Fremont, we were gonna meet and I was looking forward to meeting Al in person and was going to introduce my family to him. We didn't get a chance to meet in this lifetime, but I am sure Al's spirit is up in a better place where he is not in pain any longer. I saw Al as a very caring type of person, and I'm sure he is/will be missed by his dear family, relatives, friends and co-workers. God Bless ~

Al Roxin had been my next door neighbor for ten years, almost to the day.

Initially, we (my wife, Eliza, and I) didn’t see all that much of Al.  He was busy working a contract in Issaquah, and staying with his nephew, Justin, to avoid the commute from Edmonds to Issaquah.

After that his father’s health began to fail, so while we saw more of Al, he spent time with his father and family.

Al really came into my life several years ago when I would drive my wife to work early in the morning, if we saw his office light on, as we walked by the widow we’d say, “Morning Al”.  He’d jump up and look over the top of the window shade to see who said “Morning Al”; and then come to door and chat for a few minutes.

One morning I mentioned that I was thinking about taking some classes in programing, starting with HTML; explaining that would add to my tech writing skills.  The look on his face indicated that he thought that taking the class was a ‘stupid idea’. 

“Save the $800; I’ll teach what you need to know.”

That afternoon we started ‘my’ website.  For the next two and a half years and several websites, Al would stop by every day and whenever he was bored with whatever he was doing; to see what I was doing, or I would go over to his place when there was a problem with my code. We even started a data base app for mobile phones. It was going make us rich.

My wife said we’d become work spouses.

When Al got the contract to work at ATT in Bothell, our afternoon sessions became Saturday and Sunday morning walks with my dog.  We talked about what kinds of coding he was doing at work. Then our conversation would shift to national politics, local politics and a dozen or so of other topics.  But his favorite discussion topics were baseball, football, soccer, hockey (he’d met Don Cherry when Cherry played in Rochester) and the possibility of having a new Seattle basketball team.  Al knew and loved sports!

Every night as I come home from my dog walks, I'd look up at Al’s window and see the bluish television glow.  If it had been a late night walk, I figured that Al had fallen asleep while watching some ESPN highlights. 

Now I see a darkened window and I’m saddened. Even the dog knows something has changed.

Knowing Al was a gift.