The Tale of the Passe-partout

Passe-partout: something that passes everywhere or provides universal passage, OR a simple picture frame. 

We had hoped, after our troubles from the middle of our trip in Denver when we discovered Shirley’s passport missing, that we could get things solved in California. The red tape in Arkansas tangled us up in that case and we had to have our marriage certificate sent to New York. We had been able to make the last appointment available on the day before we were to fly back to Belgium. We had no idea if we would be able to get a new passport for Shirley in one day or not, but the adventure had begun and we had to carry on. 

As we said goodbye to Scott’s mom, we looked forward to our last day together with Sean and Jill in New York. We had an appointment at the passport agency, but had no idea how long it would take. Pictures of the DMV rose in our minds, especially since they specifically warn those with an appointment to come “at least” 30 minutes prior to the appointment to make sure that you get in on time. 

Arriving at the address we saw a line already posted outside the building, snaking its way to the entrance where guards helped the line to enter in an orderly manner. When we approached, they asked if we had an appointment and then waved us in in front of those who were standing in line. We passed through security (remove belt and all metal, place everything in a basket, walk through the metal detector) and went on to the elevator which took us to the 10th floor. 

Upstairs we joined a room full of people sitting patiently and a line of people crawling around the room until they came to the windows at the front behind which someone was telling them something. We got in line and crawled. When it was our turn we were given a paper to fill in (even though I had filled this paper in online) and told to return with the paper filled in completey and correctly. 

The form said it could only be filled in in black ink. My pen was blue. I didn’t know if I should wait in line again in order to ask if I could use blue or not. I skipped in line and asked quickly at the window and was informed that blue was fine. When we finally returned to the window with our filled-in form, we were given a number for another room and told that it might be a few hours. 

We did not want to leave and run the chance of not getting back in, so we found a place to sit and wait. This was easier said than done. Both rooms were filled to the brim, as was the hall and all the available wall space to lean onself against. Thankfully, a younger woman and her mother saw us and squinched together to create space for one to sit. Later, someone was called up, leaving space for me to sit as well. 

These rooms were filled with all sorts of people and I longed to know some of the stories. Some were there with their children, others with what must be a new spouse. Some spoke foreign languages to one another. Most simply stared ahead and waited to hear their name called off. The mother and daughter next to us were Spanish-speaking. A later group of ladies spoke Creole and I recognized the bit of French in it. There was an Asian couple with their young son. A young anglo man waited. Perhaps a student or getting a passport for the first time. Everyone had a story. 

As the people exited the room to our right, the room we waited to enter when they would call our name, they mostly left with smiles on their faces. They each had a blue piece of paper and most were clutching their new, dark blue passport. Some were met by those who were waiting for them in the hall or adjoining room. Some were simply in a hurry and left quickly with concern and stress grimacing their features. And then we heard Shirley’s name. 

This meant that we could now join the line crawling to the front of the second room where people behind glass were talking to those approaching and handing out a blue piece of paper and a passport. As we got closer to the window, a man approached with his daughter. He simply walked up to the window and stated that he had to catch a flight in 90 minutes – could he skip the line? The person behind the window informed him that many people were waiting and also had urgent appointments. Several in the line informed him of the same. Still, he was able to get someone to allow him in front. I wonder if he made his flight. The passport was for his daughter. 

We arrived at the window and received the blue paper (it held our important papers, including our marriage certificate) and the passport for Shirley. It was done! We had made it. We understood completely the looks on the faces of all those who had preceded us out of the room. An involuntary smile was the least that would happen, simply because the stress was over. We smiled at those we passed as we went to the elevator and exited the building. 

The sun was shining outside, we were joining Sean and Jill for dinner and we were finally, formally at peace with the world of administration and bureaucracy – for now, in this country. We enjoyed the New York City sunset in a picture-perfect evening, thankful for how we had been blessed, not only with the outcome of this adventure, but with the experience of being carried along the whole time.

The Tale of the Big Apple

New York, New York. New York State of Mind. Feelin’ Groovy. Yes, we made it to the Big Apple, New York City. All sorts of preconceptions and expectations which are met by reality and true experience. Our arrival was no let down, in any case. As befits a city of this size, this tale will trail on longer than most. But we did not have to rush anywhere, so we could simply sit back and experience things as they came. 

Our first Lyft ride ever went surprisingly well, considering we only had wifi (and therefore contact with the service) until we stepped outside the airport to wait for our car. Thankfully, the info on the car was loaded before we stepped outside. The drive to our AirBnB was a journey of sights and sounds of city, highway and neighborhood. Our temporary home was a 10-15 minute walk from Sean and Jill’s place in a row of brownstones in a mostly Puerto Rican neighborhood (or so it seemed). Lots of sounds and smells and life. 

After meeting our hosts and getting installed, we were able to hug on Sean who had come to take us to his place – a sort of warehouse where they live together with some others in a sort of communal arrangement. This means that they have an amazing home atmosphere with a private space for a reasonable price in the city. It even includes a garden area where Jill was already growing cucumber, zucchini, eggplant and more. We enjoyed a meal together, catching up on the time we had missed. Simply being able to sit together, to touch, to laugh or be concerned as parents will be, thrilled our hearts. The dinner in the garden with fairy lights shining in the late New York city evening seemed the perfect atmosphere for another song. 

Plans were made and adapted. Scott’s mom was to arrive from upstate New York that evening, but things went a bit awry. Still, all worked out for a couple of days exploring in the concrete tourist-teeming jungle of The City. It worked out extremely well in the end that Scott’s mom (Patty) had her hotel right downtown on Times Square. This turned out to be our Headquarters, watering hole, rest place and cooling-off spot. Sean and Jill met us at the metro near our place and we headed out to Manhattan, meeting up at Patty’s in Time Square. 

What is it like to see your son after years? How do you first react to meeting your granddaughter-in-love for the first time and seeing your grandson? How good is it to hold on tight and take the time to share thoughts. Suffice it to say that we spent plenty of time before heading out into the city, but it was a wonderful homecoming. We talked excitedly about our plans for the day – a bus tour to all the sites so that we could see plenty and still save some energy. You can see our pictures here. 

The Chrysler building, Macy’s, a bit of Chinatown and Little Italy, the UN and much more. The fun of the bus tour was being together, hearing some history and getting to see so much more than we would have if we were to have tried to walk. Scott was intrigued by the repetitive ‘zorro’ slash of the fire escapes on many of the buildings. Of course we were tourists, but we were also family together. 

Visits often revolve around food. We have to eat, after all. And eating together is a way of sharing. But Sean and Jill are vegans. Scott and Shirley eat gluten-free. And all of us want to eat something delicious. We were blessed by Jill considering and finding good compromises. So we stopped at Chipotle in the city for lunch and headed out for the cable-car to Roosevelt Island after taking a side trip to Trump Tower. It began to sprinkle a bit and Patty was reaching the end of her energy, so Jill sat with a monkey umbrella protecting grandma while the rest caught a glimpse of ‘Manhattanhenge’. 

After returning to Patty Headquarters, watering up and leaving mom/grandma to rest for the evening (but she has her own very intriguing story if you are interested), we visited Grand Central Station, picked up some food at a street vendor and ate it in the rain in a local park before heading back home for the day. Amazing how much can be packed into one day in an amazing place with people you love. 

The following day we met Sean and Jill and worshipped together with the church in Manhattan before searching again for a good place to share a meal. This time it was a place with more vegan options and gave us a good opportunity to discuss the morning’s content in depth. The sun continued shining as we walked through Central Park, enjoying climbing rocks, listening to a cappella shooby-wap and wondering at some strange bird habits. We picked up Patty at headquarters and marveled at her Warrior Grandma Shoes. She was ready for the day (and they truly helped). 

Adventure is around any corner, wherever you go. That always depends on your attitude, not the circumstances. So we met the adventure of the metro (and all the stairs that one needs to climb in order to participate in this activity) as we made our way to the Staten Island Ferry. Scott is his mother’s son – both spent much of the time either meeting new people or taking pictures – of Lady Liberty, Ellis Island, of the city in the background, sprouting from the water. And this could be repeated once we made it to the other side and returned. 

From the ferry we were just around the corner from Freedom Tower and the 9/11 monuments. The setting sun glowed solemnly as we considered the history of this spot. So many thoughts and considerations tumbling around in our brains as we watched the tears streaming down the monuments. It had only been two days, but our time was almost ending.

Back at headquarters in Time Square we decided on a place to eat and sat to table together for the last time – at this time. Jill had an appointment the next day, so Patty would say goodbye to her granddaughter-in-love. After returning to Patty headquarters one last time we got some pictures at Time Square and headed home for the evening. 

The third day was a day of tasks and trips. Scott, Shirley and Sean took Patty to Penn Station where she would catch her train back to Rochester (another exciting adventure, but that is not our story to tell). We then stopped at the food court for something to eat (this time from a very vegan restaurant) before we headed off to the conclusion of The Passed Port: picking up Shirley’s passport. But that is another story to be told next time. Our time after that episode – several hours later – was filled with pizza, people-talk, strolls along the river in the sunset and ice cream in the evening glow of the city. This was our goodbye to our daughter-in-love, since we would not see her the next morning before we left for our flight back to Belgium. 

After an amazing walk the next day over the Brooklyn Bridge and lunch in Chinatown, our visit to the Big Apple ended as it had begun, with a Lyft and the airport. The city had been all that we had heard. It had wooed us, intrigued us, wearied us and shooed us on our way, leaving us with the taste of more and a desire to come again. If our children remain there, struggling to fit in and make their mark on this behemoth which swallows grateful inhabitants, then we will return and enjoy once again the adventures that we encounter along the way. 

Tales of a marriage entangled in red tape

We have been married almost 35 years. We know that for sure. We have never really needed our marriage certificate in order to prove it, we remember the ceremony, the people who were present. Even on this trip we were able to reminisce with Daniel who sang that day, with Tonita who was maid-of-honor and with Bret who was best man. We don’t have a lot of pictures of the day (We left that very evening and took the film with us; it later died in our refirgerator before we got the chance to develop it), but we all remember the day. 

We remember looking into each other’s eyes. Saying our vows. Listening to Ron (Bret’s dad) pronounce us “man and wife”, and signing the cretificate. We were married on Friday, December 21, 1984. It was just before Christmas, which ended up playing a big part in this tale, although we did not know that until now. By Sunday we were in Abilene, Texas, beginning our life with the congregation of 11th and Willis (which you can read about in The Tale of the Old Friend). We still remember that afternoon in the church building of Cloverdale church of Christ in Searcy, Arkansas. We know we have been married for almost 35 years. 

Several years back, when we “moved” internally in our house here in Belgium, we somehow lost some of our important papers. We have been looking for them ever since, but thought it wise, since we would be in the US, to get copies. That is why we picked up a copy of Shirley’s birth certificate in Omaha and ordered a copy of our marriage certificate while in Minnesota. We ordered it online, since we would not be visiting Arkansas. No problem, everything is done digitally these days. As it turned out, it was good that we order this, since it was also the only piece of paper that could prove that Shirley was actually named “Raab” (see the Tale of the Pssed Port”). 

We had gotten news that all would be sent to Long Beach (which is where I knew we would be long enough to pick up mail). We even received news from the secretary at Long Beach that mail from Arkansas had arrived. Now all we had to do was pick it up. We had an appointment planned at the passport agency in Los Angeles for two days after we arrived in Long Beach. Then we would have everything solved. 

This, of course, did not account for red tape, Christmas, a story we have not yet heard (and may never hear). You see, what was waiting for us in Long Beach, the letter from Arkansas, was not our marriage certificate copy which would help us at the passport agency appointment early on a Wednesday morning in LA, it was a leter stating that they could not find any record of Scott Patrick Raab marrying Shirley Patrick Walker on December 21, 1984 in Searcy, Arkansas. I still have no idea how they gave Shirley my middle name. But I understood immediately that this meant that we would not be able to go to the passport agency on Wednesday morning. 

Rescheduling for the passport in Los Angeles was not possible. The only opening was in New York City on July 8 (the day before we would fly back to Belgium). More on that story later, what we were mostly wondering and needing was information about our marriage certificate. We still needed this piece of paper. How could they have gotten it wrong? And what were we to do now? 

We re-applied for a new certificate copy and made sure that all information was correct. We called to see how quickly this could be sent and found out that it could take up to two weeks (longer than we were in Long Beach). Within a few days we had notice that our new request had been processed – a letter arrived at the church building…. Stating that there was no record of a marriage between Shirley Patrick Walker and Scott Patrick Raab. Once again, the digital demon had done its work. Or at least that is what we thought. How could they keep getting the name wrong? 

We called Little Rock to get more information and that is when I met Tywanna. In the next few days Tywanna would come to know my phone number and name (“Well, hello mr. Scott”) quite well as we tried to get things worked out. In the end she stated, “I am glad it all worked out. Now I don’t want to hear from you again.” It was only because of her perseverance that we really are (officially, according to Arkansas) married. 

Through several days of telephone tag, calling to Searcy, back to Little Rock, and back to Searcy we weer able to find the correct record (which could not be found in Little Rock). It was Monday, July 1 at almost 4:30 pm. July 4th everything would be closed and we would leave Long Beach on July 5th. This was our last chance. Tywanna made sure it all got off on time. What arrived was incorrect. 

We found out that: 1) the person who filed our information at city hall in Searcy did a sloppy job. Our names were incorrect, our birthdates were all the same, even the date that it was filed was impossible (filed as January 1, 1984 – when the marriage date was clearly stated as December 21, 1984). That is a story we may never hear, but the filing was made on December 24 – Christmas eve and a Monday. What it meant was that we had to call Tywanna again. She was not happy, but she got right onto it. 

We called the clerk in Searcy again and she fixed everything while I waited on the phone and then faxed it to Tywanna. Tywanna had to go to another part of the office to find the person to Fed-Ex it to us, but by now it would not make it to us in Long Beach. It was already July 3rd. So we had to have it sent to Sean’s address in New York City. He lives in a warehouse. We prayed that all would go well and arrive on time. More importantly, that it would be correct. 

Before we arrived in New York on the 5th we received notice from Sean that all had arrived safely. We were finally officially married! Mind you, we had had a marriage certificate which was correct since the day we were married. Somehow, that offical piece of paper, which we still hope to find, never made it into the archives of Searcy or Little Rock, Arkansas. But it’s there now. We are so thankful for Tywanna (she went above and beyond) but we are more than thankful for the almost 35 years we have been together – with and without red tape. 

The Tale of the Long Beach

Where would you like to escape to on vacation? Many people think of sitting in the sun on a snady beach, enjoying the sun and sea, listening to gulls and the crashing of the waves. Others imagine climbing a mountain and tasting from crystal clear mountain streams while calling out echoes from the mountaintop or hearing the eagle cry in the distance. We have been blessed by how God has supported us in our efforts to serve Him through the years in that we get to travel all over the US, visiting our church homes who for so long have supported us and love not only us but those we work with as well. 

This means that we also have a home in Long Beach, California. The last time we were here in 2016 was the last time that Sean would travel with us, so we made a road trip (as we had done with Stephan’s last trip with us in 2010). In the begin years, our visits here (Long Beach has supported us from the beginning in 1990) included visits to Disneyland and all sorts of fun places for the boys (provided lovingly by members). But this year we were traveling from an empty nest to the city on the beach. 

Now we had time to spend with so many who have been family and have become the deepest of friends. And we also were blessed to make new friends, as often happens on our trips, since we are visiting a congregation that we have not seen for three years. New people arrive whom we have never met. In this case that included the new preacher and his wife and the other missionary family supported by the congregation. 

We knew the Brittons, who have worked in Uganda for 13 years; we simply had never met them. For years we and they would be back on furlough, visiting in Long Beach, but always at different times, often missing each other by a matter of a week or two. This was the first time we finally got to sit down together and share stories and get to know one another. Most of this was done around good potluck-style meals, of course. We even shared good fun at a church party around the 4th of July. 

Our home time here for the past 12 years has been the beuatiful home of Kerry and Marisol Jablonski. From their home just around the corner from the church building (by California standards) with swimming pool, putting course, precious cats and more, we have always been welcomed as family from the first moment. Stephan and Sean have helped prepare for and serve at a family wedding, and we have all been welcomed by all the members of the family. 

This year was no different. After spending an evening together watching the sun set behind the Queen Mary or visiting with other church family, we would come back to the house on the golf course, be welcomed by the cat and our family who has adopted us with whom we could sit comfortably on the couch and discuss the day or any other topic. Ice cream or some other snack in hand, feet tucked comfortably under our legs, we would share the day and plan the next. 

We shared our frustrations with red tape (another tale coming up), our joy in visiting our sister-in-love and nephew in San Diego, tears or worries about family concerns on both sides, and laughter at how we are getting old. Our time in California came to a close after a wonderful evening at a 4th of July party and fireworks, almost as if it were sending us off well on our way to our next stop – the Big Apple. From coast to coast, we are thankful for God’s good care through His wonderful family in so many places. 

Enjoy the pictures of some of the people in our lives in California. And enjoy the people God has brought into your life today, remembering that He has also brought YOU into other people’s lives to touch them with His love as well. 

The Tale of Son One

Indianapolis. It was in the Fall of 2012 that we first added this area of the country to our puzzled schedule on our Home Assignment. This had everything to do with Stephan having found Natalie and them deciding to spend the rest of their lives together. Natalie’s folks lived at the time in Ohio, where the wedding took place. The first years of Stephan and Natalie’s life together was in Dayton. But by the time we were ready for our next Home Assigment, four years later, they had moved on to other jobs and a life in the capitol of Indiana. 

Indianapolis is a sprawling village of a city, with quaint neighborhoods like Broad Ripple, a walking trail along a “canal” downtown and cutting through the city, older apartment buildings and houses from the 1930’s and sprawling suburbs radiating out from the center. Or at least that is how we experienced it. This was the second time we had visited. Although we come because we get to see Stephan and Natalie as well as Scott’s brother Mike and his family, we have come to enjoy the scenic spots and the midwestern taste of the city. 

This visit was of course different from the last. This time we were traveling alone (last time we were with Sean, his best friend and his best friend’s father). We had been waiting since Minnesota for summer weather and had only seen short glimpses in Texas. In Indiana we were met with the clash of the weather systems, which of course brings amazing summer storms. So after visiting the Ikea (a bit of ‘home’ and good time walking and visiting with Stephan and Natalie) we were met by torrential rain. 

But just as dashing between the raindrops makes for an exciting moment, so too the quiet weather moments in the following days meant nice, exciting moments. We went to a concert of local talent thanks to our nephew, Nate. Afterwards, between some rain showers, we walked around the trendy neighborhood that we had seen while watching a show on tv about renovating homes. Another day we suffered the weight of the humidity on a day to celebrate Natalie’s sister and husband in their soon to be growing family (it will be a girl). 

In between we enjoyed walking the dog with Jay and Pauline, shopping at Goodwill with Stephan and Natalie and getting to see Scott’s family. This included some more walking in the rain, drinking some good coffee and sharing a good home-made meal. As mentioned before in our travels, we were at home - again. What a blessing God has given us in having family of all different kinds in so many places. Our time here was far too short, but we are thankful we have been able to add it to our travels.

Check out our pictures from this stop.