Mi Misionero

Two years.
That's how long I hope that the hug I gave my son Parker nearly two weeks ago will last.


Two years.
That's how long it will be until we see each other again.


Two years.


Twenty-four months.
104 weeks.
730 days.


No matter how you count it, it's a long time. 
Two years.


It's hard to describe how it feels to hug your child, knowing that you won't get another chance to hug him again for a long time.
Two years, to be exact.


And yet, I wouldn't have it any other way.


For the next two years, Parker will be doing what he has dreamed of doing his whole life -- sharing the Gospel of Jesus Christ with the wonderful people in Cuernavaca Mexico.


On Wednesday, May 23 at 12:40 p.m., our family of 7 (my husband Derek, me, our children Nate, Parker, Mallory and Alex, along with Nate's wife Aprill) drove through the gates of the Missionary Training Center of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. A few short (way too short) minutes later, six of us drove back out of the gates...sobbing, sniffling and somber.


It's funny how you can simultaneously be filled with indescribable joy, panic and sadness. But that's exactly how I felt as we watched Parker, clad in a dark blue suit and brand new shoes, bravely walk away, pulling his matching luggage behind him, as the rest of our family cried our eyes out. I was filled with the same intense range of emotions four years ago when we dropped Nate off at the MTC as he prepared to head to the Canada Edmonton mission.


It's something I have been preparing for ever since my boys were born. Yet at the moment when the time for separation actually came, I don't think I could have felt more unprepared.


As we were in the car driving Parker to the MTC, I told him that I kind of felt the way I did when I was in labor -- I knew there was no turning back, but yet, I wasn't sure I could do what was required. In the hospital before each of my children was born, I can distinctly remember going through a few moments of sheer panic and seriously wanting to change my mind about the whole giving birth thing. But somehow, I did it (four times, even) and I can't imagine my life without those  amazing four kids in it.


I also can't imagine Parker NOT leaving us for two years to serve a mission for our church. He has worked so hard to prepare, and I will cherish forever the incredible one-on-one time we spent together before he left -- shopping for white shirts, ties, lighweight raincoats and waterproof boots. The time we spent together in the temple. The time we spent learning Spanish together on the public library's Mango app. The time we spent talking and sharing our deepest thoughts and testimonies.


Those incredible moments we shared are helping me make it through these tough first few weeks without him. They also make me miss him even more. He truly has grown into an exemplary young man, full of enthusiasm, drive and the ability to reach out to others. Back when he was 15, who would have ever dreamed I would miss him so much when he left? 


Many people joke that missionaries should leave when they are age 15 or 16. You know why? Because that's when they know everything and you won't cry when they leave.


But suddenly, when those 15-year-old, awkward, often infuriating little punks become amazing 19-year-olds, you cry like a baby when you have to say goodbye to them.


When my oldest son Nate went to kindergarten, I remember calling my sister and crying as I told her, "There are so many things I wanted to do with him before he went to kindergarten!" It had all come way too fast and that big milestone in our lives was hard for me to swallow. My sister chuckled at my distress and said, "Well, he'll be home at 11:30." 


How true that was, and yet how quickly the time flew until suddenly Nate was leaving on his mission, coming home two years later, dating and marrying. Time seems to fly faster and faster and sometimes I just want to hold onto the moment and make the clock stop.


But, time marches on, no matter how much I'd like to hold it back. And don't get me wrong. It is a wonderful life. I am grateful to see my children progress, learn and move forward with the goals they have set earlier in their lives. Yes, it tugs at my heartstrings, but I know it's all part of the process.


In the words of the amazing singer/songwriter Brad Paisley, 


"Just when I start thinking it's as good as it can get, this crazy life does something just to let me know, I haven't seen anything yet." (From the song "It Did")


I couldn't agree more.


:)