My dad.
Do you know him? If so, you've been introduced to an amazing man. You probably know he has an extreme love of ice cream and gumballs. You know he will do anything for his family (though likely NOT give up his ice cream for one of us...). You recognize his voice brings laughter in one moment and calm in another. You've seen him comfort the sick, the injured, the dying. You've heard him tell the worst jokes and laughed in spite of it!
Yeah, he's all of those things. But I know him a bit deeper. A lot a bit deeper. I got the supreme privilege of being his daughter! I've gotten to spend my whole life with him. Yeah, you can be jealous. ;) My siblings and I are used to it. We'll share, you just can't have him. He's ours!
Tomorrow he retires from his job as staff chaplain at OSF Saint Anthony Hospital. I'll admit I've struggled with this idea. I have always equated retirement to being old. I didn't do that out of disrespect. It was just my perception. But watching my dad make this decision, I've seen how he's contemplated its significance, weighed the options and felt peace that he'd done the job he'd been called to do. He's ready to pass the baton to another. I'm getting closer to accepting that. ;)
In the early '80's we lived in New York City, the lower East side in Manhattan, to be exact. He pastored a small Hispanic church for three years there. Mom worked full time to make the ends meet as the church didn't pay well. You'll never know the full sacrifice if you don't know what she did, too. He didn't love that she had so far to travel to work on a bus or a train, but he appreciated her doing what she did so he could do what he was called to - to minister.
During his time there, he wasn't 100% that full time pastoring was his exact calling. When his time at this church came to end, he moved us Upstate to a tiny town that my grandfather pastored in. His time in the Army had ended and the church in NYC was asking for him to do traveling that he wasn't comfortable with. He took a job at an alcoholism counseling place in Buffalo (an hour and half away) to provide for us while my mom had time to stay home with us. While working in Buffalo he began his chaplaincy training.
After 2 years there, he moved us back to Kansas City (that's where Roberto and I were born - well me in KC, KS and Roberto in KC, MO) to do an internship at Baptist Medical Center and finish his chaplaincy training. One of my memories was nights that my dad would have to stay at the hospital for an overnight on-call, mom would make a full meal, pack it up and take us to eat with him. We'd spend time playing in the open area outside his office after we'd finish eating. Again, my mom worked super hard to keep things going (also working full-time again) to help dad fulfill his calling.
His training ended there and a job opened up at Rockford Memorial Hospital. I still remember them telling us we'd be moving again and I couldn't stop repeating "Rockford" to myself. I remember that being a weird name and I was sure I wouldn't like it. :) I got over it. :) His time at RMH lasted about 10 years. There was a brief yet tumultuous time spent at DCFS for 9 months, too, before an opening at OSF came up.
Why the walk through Escalante history? Maybe because I've been walking it lately remembering it all. But mostly because I wanted you to know him a little better.
He doesn't take retiring lightly. He has put his life, energy, tears, love, strength and even weaknesses into this job. He has held the hands of the dying. He has encouraged the weak. He has counseled the suicidal. He has brought laughter to help release pain. He has cried with grieving families. He has held babies hours old who wouldn't make it to a day old, praying a blessing over them and its grieving parents. He has responded to tragic ER incidents offering support to not only families, but staff. He has taken the job home with him, feeling the deaths of children the hardest. He has given away countless teddy bears to the young and the young at heart. He has performed funerals. Weddings. Baptisms.
He has and will continue to "live a life worthy of the calling he has received" (Ephesians 4:1).
Okay, Papi', you've lived a life worthy of your calling. I've gotten to see it first hand. I pray your retirement brings you even half as many blessings as you've provided to every single person you've ministered to over your career. I can guarantee even that will bring you joy. You are loved. I can't wait to see what you get to do next!
P.S. If you see him soon; Hug him. Thank him. Pray for him. Love him.
Do you know him? If so, you've been introduced to an amazing man. You probably know he has an extreme love of ice cream and gumballs. You know he will do anything for his family (though likely NOT give up his ice cream for one of us...). You recognize his voice brings laughter in one moment and calm in another. You've seen him comfort the sick, the injured, the dying. You've heard him tell the worst jokes and laughed in spite of it!
Yeah, he's all of those things. But I know him a bit deeper. A lot a bit deeper. I got the supreme privilege of being his daughter! I've gotten to spend my whole life with him. Yeah, you can be jealous. ;) My siblings and I are used to it. We'll share, you just can't have him. He's ours!
Tomorrow he retires from his job as staff chaplain at OSF Saint Anthony Hospital. I'll admit I've struggled with this idea. I have always equated retirement to being old. I didn't do that out of disrespect. It was just my perception. But watching my dad make this decision, I've seen how he's contemplated its significance, weighed the options and felt peace that he'd done the job he'd been called to do. He's ready to pass the baton to another. I'm getting closer to accepting that. ;)
In the early '80's we lived in New York City, the lower East side in Manhattan, to be exact. He pastored a small Hispanic church for three years there. Mom worked full time to make the ends meet as the church didn't pay well. You'll never know the full sacrifice if you don't know what she did, too. He didn't love that she had so far to travel to work on a bus or a train, but he appreciated her doing what she did so he could do what he was called to - to minister.
During his time there, he wasn't 100% that full time pastoring was his exact calling. When his time at this church came to end, he moved us Upstate to a tiny town that my grandfather pastored in. His time in the Army had ended and the church in NYC was asking for him to do traveling that he wasn't comfortable with. He took a job at an alcoholism counseling place in Buffalo (an hour and half away) to provide for us while my mom had time to stay home with us. While working in Buffalo he began his chaplaincy training.
After 2 years there, he moved us back to Kansas City (that's where Roberto and I were born - well me in KC, KS and Roberto in KC, MO) to do an internship at Baptist Medical Center and finish his chaplaincy training. One of my memories was nights that my dad would have to stay at the hospital for an overnight on-call, mom would make a full meal, pack it up and take us to eat with him. We'd spend time playing in the open area outside his office after we'd finish eating. Again, my mom worked super hard to keep things going (also working full-time again) to help dad fulfill his calling.
His training ended there and a job opened up at Rockford Memorial Hospital. I still remember them telling us we'd be moving again and I couldn't stop repeating "Rockford" to myself. I remember that being a weird name and I was sure I wouldn't like it. :) I got over it. :) His time at RMH lasted about 10 years. There was a brief yet tumultuous time spent at DCFS for 9 months, too, before an opening at OSF came up.
Why the walk through Escalante history? Maybe because I've been walking it lately remembering it all. But mostly because I wanted you to know him a little better.
He doesn't take retiring lightly. He has put his life, energy, tears, love, strength and even weaknesses into this job. He has held the hands of the dying. He has encouraged the weak. He has counseled the suicidal. He has brought laughter to help release pain. He has cried with grieving families. He has held babies hours old who wouldn't make it to a day old, praying a blessing over them and its grieving parents. He has responded to tragic ER incidents offering support to not only families, but staff. He has taken the job home with him, feeling the deaths of children the hardest. He has given away countless teddy bears to the young and the young at heart. He has performed funerals. Weddings. Baptisms.
He has and will continue to "live a life worthy of the calling he has received" (Ephesians 4:1).
Okay, Papi', you've lived a life worthy of your calling. I've gotten to see it first hand. I pray your retirement brings you even half as many blessings as you've provided to every single person you've ministered to over your career. I can guarantee even that will bring you joy. You are loved. I can't wait to see what you get to do next!
P.S. If you see him soon; Hug him. Thank him. Pray for him. Love him.
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