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CKSWarriorQueen

~ Three Hundred and Sixty-Five Days of Creativity~Advocacy~Well-Being

CKSWarriorQueen

Category Archives: Work

Five Years On ~ Missing Dad: Day 1, continued

11 Thursday Jun 2015

Posted by ckswarriorqueen in Acceptance, Accountability, Action, Aging, Anxiety, Ask, bereavement, Care, Caregiving, Commitment, Community, Compassion, Courage, Death, Diligence, Discipline, Discouragement, Distress, Do Your Best, Doubt, Empathy, Endurance, Energy, Faithfulness, Family, Father, Father's Day, Fear, Filial Piety, God, God Is Love, Grace, Gratitude, Grief, Honor, Hope, Impossible, Kindness, Life, Light, Listen, Loss, Love, Marriage, Mercy, Mindfulness, Mourning, Neighbor, Neighborhood, Pain, Path, Patience, Peace, Police, Prayer, Protection, Providence, Quiet, Regret, Resolve, Safety, Service, Share, Sorrow, Stories, Story, Strength, Sympathy, Tenderness, Thanks, The Book of Life, Time, Trouble, Trust, Truth, Understanding, Wait, Walk, Wherever I Go, Will, Work

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caregiving, Come to Me, Duty, elderly parents, faith, family, father, friends, grief, home, hope, joy, loss, love, Matthew 11:28, mercy, missing, Missing Dad, missing persons, parents, patience, prayer, responsibility, search, search dogs, siblings, strength, trust

The police meet Vee and Glenn at Dad’s house. They call me for details about Dad and where he would be likely to go. They want to know where he shops, where he banks, if he has friends he liked to see, who his doctor and dentist are, which area schools are the ones Alyssa has attended (since he had shown up at her elementary school in his pajamas just eight days before), what church he attends, and anything else that might help.
I told them everything I could think of; I told them things I didn’t realize I knew. They thanked me and said they’d be in touch.

I have to leave soon, to go to work; I am the manager-in-training at the Papyrus flagship store on Broadway and 76th Street in Manhattan. I am scheduled for noon until closing, which means I need to be on the 10:33 train. I would call out if we weren’t so short-staffed. As it is, our full-time keyholder, Mary, will be alone until I get there. Emery has a travel day and is going to be at both of his other stores giving performance reviews. Jacque isn’t scheduled until four, and since her review is supposed to be at the Columbus Avenue store, she probably isn’t even going to get to Broadway until almost five.
If I call out, Mary will be alone either until Jacque comes in, or until Emery can get there. That just won’t work—that store is just too busy, and cannot run with only one person on the floor for six hours—is there anybody else who can cover me on short notice? No. (So, what would happen if I got hit by a truck on the way there? Would they find someone then?) I’ve managed the floor by myself for hours, or worked a thirteen-hour open-to-close shift when staff calls out or just doesn’t show up; that’s precisely why I don’t do that to other people. Not even today, with this good a reason.

I call Mary on my way to the train to tell her my father is missing. She said, “Oh, did they find him?” I said, NO, HE IS MISSING. No one knows where he is.
I text Emery to let him know what is going on. I add that I am on my way in, but that someone else will have to close with Jacque if my father doesn’t turn up soon.
I get to Penn before eleven. I have no news from anyone. I have enough time to try to find a charger for my phone. I hadn’t charged it the night before and I’ve been on it almost the whole morning. I take the local to 79th Street, stop at the T-Mobile store to see if I can find what I need. No dice—the sales associate practically laughs at my three-year-old no-frills Samsung. I try the electronics store across the street. They don’t have one either, but I do replace my broken watchstrap with a new black leather one.
I get to the store by 11:30, clock in, tell Mary there still hasn’t been news, and try to concentrate on my tasks at hand.
I never bring my cellphone on to the sales floor, but I make an exception this day. I am fielding texts from my sisters asking if there is any news, while I am emailing back and forth with my district manager and Corporate about a man who had attempted to make a fraudulent return in our store. In between, I am ringing up Father’s Day cards for customers.

Frank checks in with me a couple of times, to see if I’ve heard anything, to hear how I sound. He knows me better than anyone else on God’s green earth. He can pick things up in my voice that even I don’t know are there. Such are the blessings of a long-term happy marriage.
“Hi Claud. Anything new?” (Are you okay? Tell me how you are really doing.)
“I haven’t heard anything from anyone. I’m going to Port Authority after work, in case Dad got on a bus.” (I’m scared and I don’t know what else to do.)
“Please take care of yourself.”

I have Mary take her lunch break at 2, and hope I don’t have to flee while she is gone.
Emery calls to check and see how I am doing.
“No news. Yes, thank you for offering, please come and close the store with Jacque. I don’t know where my father is, and I don’t know what is happening.”
I haven’t really taken a break this day. Jacque comes in at 4:40. Mary leaves at 5:20.
Emery comes at around 6. I tell him that I am taking a sick day the next day, either to go looking for my dad, or to recuperate from the stress of this day, depending.
Then, I am out the door.

I grab a cab on Broadway, and I call home from my cell as the cab makes its way downtown. I am going to Port Authority on the small chance that somehow, my dad tried to come to see me in New York. Maybe he waited at our old bus stop, got on the 113S bus, got out at Port Authority and…. what? Did I really think he could find his way to the 7 train, go to Corona, or to Flushing? No, I didn’t. But in case he did, I need to tell the cops to be on the lookout.

I hear the worry in my husband’s voice. I have to do this anyway. My mind’s ear hears him saying, “Come home now” when what he is really saying out loud is good luck, be careful.
The cabdriver has overheard my conversation, and asks me if I am okay. I tell him my dad disappeared that morning and has been missing all day. I tell him why I am going to Port Authority. He asks me my father’s name so he can keep him in his prayers. We take the turn east on to 42nd Street, past Holy Cross Church, and at the southwest corner of 8th Avenue, he lets me out.

I find the police station in the terminal. I speak to the desk sergeant, who asks me to take a seat and wait for the officer who will help me. She is very understanding and kind—she has heard this story before (but it was never my story before).
I give her a description of my father. I pull out the wallet-sized studio photo of my whole family that my brother had set up for Dad’s 80th birthday. She photocopies it. When she comes back, I tell her that the day we took the photo was the first time in twelve years that we had all been under the same roof. The only other picture I have of Dad in my wallet is the one from December 1972, with him and Frank and me all dressed up for a gala dinner dance celebrating Our Lady of Sorrows’ 100th anniversary. In that picture, Dad is five years younger than I am now.
The officer reassures me that if Dad makes his way into the system, I will be notified. They will keep an eye out for him.

I call my mom’s best friend, Thea, as I am leaving the police station—she works at the 110th Precinct in Corona, our old neighborhood. She still lives next door to the house I grew up in, on 42nd Avenue. She will put the word out at the 110, just in case Dad somehow finds his way “home” to Corona. As soon as her husband hears the news about my dad, he takes a folding chair downstairs and sets it up in front of his building. He will wait there until about midnight, until he is exhausted and has to go upstairs to sleep. He is determined that, if my father comes walking down 42nd Avenue, he will intercept him and return him safely to Union, New Jersey.

It is 7 PM and Dad has been missing for eleven hours now. I call Frank and tell him I am done at Port Authority.

“Come home”, he says, “You’ve done all you can for now. Just come home.”

I won’t find this out for a while yet, but throughout the day, Frank has been trying to find ways to help me. Friday is one of his days at NYU’s School of Medicine, where he is the computer tech for a research group in the Psychiatry department. He has been asking the doctors who work there how he can best help me through whatever is coming.
On his way home from work that Friday, he goes up to a police officer and tells him about my missing dad. The cop gives him an outline of what to expect and when, if Dad isn’t found on the first day. Frank is taking the long view; he already knows that if Dad isn’t found before nightfall, the outcome is unlikely to be positive.
It will be longer before I come to that realization.

When I get to Penn, I stop into the police station on the Long Island Railroad concourse, and tell them my story. They are very kind and, as the Port Authority police did, they take down my information. I get on the 7:49 Port Washington train to go home.

I get in at about twenty past eight. Frank has dinner waiting for me, keeping warm on the stove. I eat, we talk. Unless we hear something tonight or early tomorrow, I will go to New Jersey in the morning to search for Dad. I will be with Barbara, George, and Alyssa. They, and Glenn, and Alyssa’s boyfriend Kevin have walked the woods by the house and near the Washington School several times already to see if they can find any sign at all of Dad.

After dinner, I turn on my computer. All of us sibs and spouses discuss next steps by email. Nancy and her husband, Chris, are thinking of coming up, but I think it’s better if they stay in Maryland for the time being. Their eleven-year-old son, Grant, still has another week or so of school. Nancy and Janet (who lives two doors down from her, with her husband Walter and their four cats) can make calls from home—they will call hospitals, senior centers, homeless shelters, soup kitchens, urgent care centers, clinics, and any other place they can think of to see if there are any John Does matching Dad’s description.

I send this email to everyone in my address book:
Subject: Prayer request – my dad is missing
Date: Jun 12, 2010 12:12 AM
Hi friends,
My 88 year old dad wandered off from his home and has been missing since 8AM Friday morning. He was gone when his morning caregiver arrived. Our extended family and friends and the Union County police are looking for him. I visited the station at Port Authority and talked to the PA police (just in case he got on a bus, but I doubt it). I notified a friend of mine who works in our old home precinct in Corona (just in case he tries to go back “home”).
Please just keep us in your prayers.
Thanks so much~
~Claudia & family

I am emailed and talked and texted out. It’s time to sleep now, and I will sleep the sleep of a loving daughter exhausted by grief and worry.

My father has been missing for more than sixteen hours. It’s dark out. He is almost always cold, even on hot summer days. I try not to think about this. I do not succeed.

All of us, at Dad's 80th birthday.

All of us, at Dad’s 80th birthday.


 

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REBLOG: I Come from a Long Line of Warrior Queens

22 Wednesday Apr 2015

Posted by ckswarriorqueen in Abundance, Acceptance, Accountability, Aging, Appreciation, Art, Artist, Believe, birthday, Children, Commitment, Confidence, Courage, Creativity, Desire, Do Your Best, Drawing, Dreams, Faith, Family, Filial Piety, Generosity, Gifts, Giving Thanks, Gratitude, Growth, Love, Memories, Mother, Opportunity, Patience, Persistence, Possible, Self-examination, Selflessness, Stories, Strength, Teach, Thanks, Trust, Warrior, Work

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art supplies, choice, diocesan, entrance exam, fearlessness, fork in the road, gifts, hang up on, Happy Birthday Mom, high school, High School of Art and Design, love, Mary Louis Academy, Miss Mary Biedermann, mother, ninetieth birthday, Our Lady of Sorrows, persistence, portfolio, principal, responsibility, Sister Mary Dorothy, The Mary Louis Academy, trust

Today would have been my mom’s 92nd birthday.
This is a repost of a blog I wrote 2 years ago. I hope you enjoy it.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MOM!


Mom & me, Early 1955

Mom & me, Early 1955

Today, Mom would have turned 90 years old. We lost her on July 18, 2005, after a brutal and harrowing couple of months that I covered here, here, here, and here. I am very fortunate that in her final years on this earth, I made my peace with her and she with me; her last words to me were “I love you, you’re my prize.” A person can live happily for a long time on a memory like that.

For me, winter and early summer are about my dad; he was a January baby, and we lost him (literally) in June of 2010.
Spring is always about my mother; when the snowdrops start to peek out of the cold ground, and crocuses begin to unfold, the forsythia blossoms bright yellow and the Bradford pears start their bridal march up Northern Boulevard, their white blooms wafting on the warming breezes, my mother is close by. She’s never too far– there are times when I imagine I see her face in the mirror overlaying my own– but she breaks out in the spring. It’s her birthday, Greek Easter, Mother’s Day, our first communions…spring is and always has been her season.

When I was a teenager and then a young adult, and thought I knew everything about everything, we rubbed each other the wrong way, often. As stubborn as my mother was (she was, after all, born on the cusp of Aries and Taurus), I could match her. We would yell and carry on; she’d forbid me to do one thing or another, and I would do it any way. I honed my passive-aggressive skills at her knee.
If she knew she was right, she would not cave; neither would I.
Those battles were great training for life. It wasn’t until I was older, and we made our peace with each other, that I recognized what a boon her fighting spirit was to me. When I was young, I felt thwarted by her restrictions and demands and opinions; in retrospect, I see that her fighting spirit was what made my life possible.

Here’s one story:
I decided sometime around the fifth or sixth grade that I wanted to go to the High School of Art and Design. The twin sisters of a grade school classmate had been accepted to A&D, and when I heard about it, I wanted nothing more than to go to a school where I could draw all the time. I told my folks, and I think they were hoping I would get over it, the way I got over wanting to be a nurse (when I was six) or a Maryknoll Missionary nun (when I was eight).
I didn’t get over it.
Fast forward to eighth grade, and taking the diocesan placement tests in mid-autumn (for the Catholic high schools); my choices were Mater Christi (where almost all my friends would go), The Mary Louis Academy (where my close friend Carol was trying to persuade me to go), and St. Agnes (where I REALLY did not want to go, but I needed to list three schools). I did very well on the test, and would have no problem going to the school of my choice. In January, I had the placement test and portfolio submission for the High School of Art & Design. I’d worked on my portfolio all during my Christmas vacation with Our Lady of Sorrows’ third grade-and-art teacher, Miss Mary Biedermann. She helped me matte all my artwork while listening to Leonard Cohen songs (a revelation!) and eating brie (ditto!!). It was a glimpse of what a student artist’s life might be like and I was hungry for it.

I wondered in later years if the nuns knew that Miss Biedermann had helped me; she did so outside of class and on her own time, in her own home. I travelled by myself on the subway with my art and supplies in hand; she picked me up in her car near Borough Hall on Queens Boulevard to take me to her place in Richmond Hill. I do not remember how or by whom the arrangements for all of this extracurricular activity were made. Miss Biedermann wasn’t even my teacher– my middle sister Nancy was in her third grade class– but, at some point, my parents had to be involved with the planning. I remember bringing home the day’s matted work and showing what I’d done to my mom and dad; I remember thinking they did not really understand what I was doing, but at least they were not fighting me. At that point, I don’t they thought I would get into A&D; they knew I loved to draw, but I don’t know how talented they thought I was, or –even if I was talented enough– whether this was a path from which I could be diverted. There were no artists in my family; there was no road map for them, or me, to follow. They were not sold on the idea of me being an artist…but time could change things, and anyway, maybe I wouldn’t get into A&D.

I got into Art and Design; my real life would begin that fall. All I had to do was tell Sister Mary Dorothy, the principal of Our Lady of Sorrows.
I told my teacher, Sister Regina de Lourdes, that I’d been accepted to A&D.
She, or someone, told me and told my parents that there would be a full scholarship for me to go to The Mary Louis Academy, an offer which was rarely made to anyone.
I told my parents about the scholarship, and that I didn’t want to go “Snob Hill” (what everyone called The Mary Louis Academy in those days).My mom asked me where I did want to go, and I said Art & Design. They asked me if I was sure, and I was, so that was that; there was no fighting.

I recognize now, as an adult, what an extraordinary leap of faith that was for my parents to make. Their firstborn thirteen-year-old daughter would be going to a high school that none of her classmates were attending, taking a subway into midtown every day, learning to be a professional artist.
She/I would be doing this instead of going to a Catholic high school that wanted me enough to pay the full freight, a high school that would put me on track to St. John’s, Fordham, or even an Ivy League school.Inexplicably, they let me do what I wanted to do.

It wasn’t over at OLS, though; Sister Mary Dorothy was incensed by my choice. She called my home while I was in school to speak to my mother. She yelled at my mother, carried on about how my mother was letting me ruin my life, that I wasn’t old enough to make such a choice, and on and on; she pulled every manipulative trick in the book to try to get my mother to change her mind, or better yet, change my mind for me.
My mother refused, and told Sister that it was my choice, and it was done. Sister persisted, and yelled some more.
My mother hung up on her. She fought for me, against every grain of her own doubt and fear about my choice, and she hung up the phone on the principal of my school.

I don’t know that I would have been so brave had I been in my mother’s place.
When I asked her, many years downstream, why she had let me go, she said “Because you wanted to– it meant so much to you.”
That is love, and courage, and faith, and hope, wrapped in the fighting spirit that my mom held on to until her last breath. She not only gave me life, but she gave me MY life, the life I was truly meant to have.

On this ninetieth anniversary of her birth, I say THANK YOU, Mom, for all your many gifts, but especially for that one. It was the fork in the road that made all the difference.Geranium Blossoms

______________________________________________

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December 27th ~ It’s Not So Much What You Do…..

27 Saturday Dec 2014

Posted by ckswarriorqueen in a better world, Acceptance, Accountability, Attentiveness, Busyness, Calm, Care, Commitment, Constancy, Courage, daily, Diligence, Discernment, Discipline, Do Your Best, Faithfulness, Fearlessness, Honesty, Honor, Love, Loving-kindness, Mercy, Mindfulness, Quiet, Resolve, Service, Strength, Success, Work

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….but how you do it….


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December 26th ~ Good Works

26 Friday Dec 2014

Posted by ckswarriorqueen in a better world, Abundance, Acceptance, Believe, Commitment, Constancy, Diligence, Divine, Do Your Best, Gifts, God, Goodness, Grace, Heart, Heaven, Help, Joy, Listen, Love, Loving-kindness, Mindfulness, Openness, Opportunity, Patience, Praise, Prayer, Presence, Providence, Service, Sustenance, Sympathy, Trust, Truth, Understanding, Work

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December 22nd ~ We Are As Soldiers

22 Monday Dec 2014

Posted by ckswarriorqueen in a better world, Acceptance, Action, Armor of God, Courage, Creativity, Discipline, Do Your Best, Duty, Eternity, Faithfulness, Fearlessness, Guide, Honor, Joy, Stars, The Future, Time, Warrior, Will, Work

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December 6th ~ Confidence

06 Saturday Dec 2014

Posted by ckswarriorqueen in Appreciation, Ask, Believe, Confidence, Courage, Discouragement, Do Your Best, Fear, Fearlessness, Help, Impossible, Sorrow, spiritual struggle, Strength, Trust, Will, Work

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confidence, daily devotional, Daily Strength for Daily Needs, faith, fearlessness, help, Illuminations, patience, persistence, responsibility, strength, trust, We are never without help

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November 18th ~ Be Patient

18 Tuesday Nov 2014

Posted by ckswarriorqueen in Acceptance, Believe, Constancy, Divine, Faith, Faithfulness, God, Grace, Gratitude, Listen, Patience, Plan, Providence, Spirituality, Strength, Sustenance, Trust, Wait, Work

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daily devotional, Daily Strength for Daily Needs, God, His own way, His own work, Illuminations, love, patience, spirit

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November 17th ~ Today and Every Day

17 Monday Nov 2014

Posted by ckswarriorqueen in Acceptance, Ask, Attentiveness, Blessings, Blessings in Disguise, Busyness, Calm, Commitment, daily, Diligence, Discipline, Do Your Best, Faithfulness, Giving Thanks, Glory, God, Grace, Gratitude, Heart, Mindfulness, Praise, Prayer, Psalms, Quiet, Resolutions, Service, Trust, Work

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October 31st ~ Can We Walk with God?

31 Friday Oct 2014

Posted by ckswarriorqueen in Acceptance, Anxiety, Birds, Comfort, Constancy, daily, Discernment, Divine, Faithfulness, God, Grace, Guide, Help, Loving-kindness, Mercy, Patience, Presence, Protection, Self-examination, Self-possession, Self-recollection, Strength, Sustenance, Teach, Tenderness, Wherever I Go, Work

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October 28th ~ Obstacle/Opportunity

28 Tuesday Oct 2014

Posted by ckswarriorqueen in Abundance, Acceptance, Appreciation, Attentiveness, Blessings, Blessings in Disguise, Counterintuitive, Discernment, Discouragement, Divine, Do Your Best, Epiphany, Evenness, Faith, Faithfulness, Giving Thanks, God Is Love, Grace, Gratitude, Growth, Illumination, Instruct, Love, Loving-kindness, Mindfulness, Obstacle, Opportunity, Patience, Perplexity, Plan, Possible, Protection, Providence, Service, Strength, Teach, Trouble, Trust, Truth, Wait, Will, Work, Worthy

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blessings, daily devotional, Daily Strength for Daily Needs, discouraged, doggedness, faith, fearlessness, gratitude, hindrance, Illuminations, Obstacle, opportunity, patience, persistence, plan, strength, work

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Claudia Karabaic Sargent (CKSWarriorQueen)

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