she got that second letter. When she read it, she said to the social worker, “I’m not sure, but I think I might want to go through with this.”
What she was supposed to do was write a letter and take it to the agencyand then they would send it to me. But she’s smart. She had all of the first names of my family members from my nonidentifying letter and she went to the public library, got on microfiche, and goes through all the death notices for July of 1978 until she found my father’s first name, address, and the names of the survivors. She gets into her car and goes right to my mother’s house.
I’m in Colorado working at this boutique when she knocks on my mother’s door. My mother’s making macaroni—what’s new? She comes to the door in her apron and my daughter says, “Are you Claudia’s mother?” She says yes. And she says, “I’m Raina. I’m Claudia’s daughter.” My mother just grabbed her and smothered her with a big hug. Then she immediately calls my sister and says, “You gotta get over here right away. Claudia’s daughter is here. Drop whatever you’re doing. I need you here.”
So I’m closing up the register at work and the phone rings. I pick it up and I hear this voice, “Hello, is this Claudia?” “Yeah.” “This is Raina.” I said, “Oh my God, it’s you, it’s you!” She said, “I’m at your mother’s house.” I said, “You’re what?” She said, “I’m at your mother’s house.” And I say, “Are you okay?” And she starts laughing. In the background, I hear my mother screaming, “Oh my God. She looks just like you did at that age.” And there’s crying and screaming and laughing, and Raina laughs and says, “I’m fine. I grew up just like this.”
We talked for two hours, right then. I couldn’t even think straight; I was mental. I hung up that phone. I closed up that store. I went home and told my daughter what happened. We were both mental. Then I called my friend the travel agent. I said, “I don’t know where I’m gonna get the money, but my daughter and I are flying home within the next two days.”
She met me at the airport. All of a sudden, here comes this beautiful woman. She’s got on Levi’s and a pair of black Doc Martens and a little black leather jacket, and she has hair like mine, really long curly hair down to her waist. She’s got these really big eyebrows and this beautiful smile, which I saw her father in right away, and she’s carrying one rose. We went up to a restaurant and ordered all this food but we didn’t eat anything. We were looking at each other’s fingers. I was looking at her ears. She’s looking at my eyebrows. We’re looking and we’re talking and it was just amazing. It was so amazing. She said, “You know, if we’re gonna have a relationship I want youto know who I am. I’m gay.” I said, “I don’t care.” And I really don’t care because, oh God, if you can find love you’re lucky.
Raina says to me, “Tell me about my father.” So I tell her. I tell her how magnificently beautiful he was and how I was so in love with him and what an amazing artist he is and she says to me, “I really, really want to meet him but I don’t want to interrupt his life. Even if I could just see him, I don’t want anything from him.” Well, I hadn’t seen him since I was nineteen years old. I contacted a friend of mine who knows him and he says, “I don’t have his phone number, but I know where he works. I’ll take you there, and then you’re on your own.” So my friend picks me up and I’m shaking like a leaf. I’m more nervous about this than I was about meeting my daughter.
It’s about eleven in the morning. I go to the main door and it’s locked. I go to a side door, locked. I go to the back door, locked. So I’m standing in the yard and I see a man with a baseball cap on. I’m way up on the steps and he’s down in the yard. He sees me and he points to a door under the stairs. He says,
What she was supposed to do was write a letter and take it to the agencyand then they would send it to me. But she’s smart. She had all of the first names of my family members from my nonidentifying letter and she went to the public library, got on microfiche, and goes through all the death notices for July of 1978 until she found my father’s first name, address, and the names of the survivors. She gets into her car and goes right to my mother’s house.
I’m in Colorado working at this boutique when she knocks on my mother’s door. My mother’s making macaroni—what’s new? She comes to the door in her apron and my daughter says, “Are you Claudia’s mother?” She says yes. And she says, “I’m Raina. I’m Claudia’s daughter.” My mother just grabbed her and smothered her with a big hug. Then she immediately calls my sister and says, “You gotta get over here right away. Claudia’s daughter is here. Drop whatever you’re doing. I need you here.”
So I’m closing up the register at work and the phone rings. I pick it up and I hear this voice, “Hello, is this Claudia?” “Yeah.” “This is Raina.” I said, “Oh my God, it’s you, it’s you!” She said, “I’m at your mother’s house.” I said, “You’re what?” She said, “I’m at your mother’s house.” And I say, “Are you okay?” And she starts laughing. In the background, I hear my mother screaming, “Oh my God. She looks just like you did at that age.” And there’s crying and screaming and laughing, and Raina laughs and says, “I’m fine. I grew up just like this.”
We talked for two hours, right then. I couldn’t even think straight; I was mental. I hung up that phone. I closed up that store. I went home and told my daughter what happened. We were both mental. Then I called my friend the travel agent. I said, “I don’t know where I’m gonna get the money, but my daughter and I are flying home within the next two days.”
She met me at the airport. All of a sudden, here comes this beautiful woman. She’s got on Levi’s and a pair of black Doc Martens and a little black leather jacket, and she has hair like mine, really long curly hair down to her waist. She’s got these really big eyebrows and this beautiful smile, which I saw her father in right away, and she’s carrying one rose. We went up to a restaurant and ordered all this food but we didn’t eat anything. We were looking at each other’s fingers. I was looking at her ears. She’s looking at my eyebrows. We’re looking and we’re talking and it was just amazing. It was so amazing. She said, “You know, if we’re gonna have a relationship I want youto know who I am. I’m gay.” I said, “I don’t care.” And I really don’t care because, oh God, if you can find love you’re lucky.
Raina says to me, “Tell me about my father.” So I tell her. I tell her how magnificently beautiful he was and how I was so in love with him and what an amazing artist he is and she says to me, “I really, really want to meet him but I don’t want to interrupt his life. Even if I could just see him, I don’t want anything from him.” Well, I hadn’t seen him since I was nineteen years old. I contacted a friend of mine who knows him and he says, “I don’t have his phone number, but I know where he works. I’ll take you there, and then you’re on your own.” So my friend picks me up and I’m shaking like a leaf. I’m more nervous about this than I was about meeting my daughter.
It’s about eleven in the morning. I go to the main door and it’s locked. I go to a side door, locked. I go to the back door, locked. So I’m standing in the yard and I see a man with a baseball cap on. I’m way up on the steps and he’s down in the yard. He sees me and he points to a door under the stairs. He says,
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