The Road to the MTC

I love this picture- wish Spence and Erin were in it, too.

Now, here we are, October, 2011.  My baby, the Gare-bear, is in the Missionary Training Center (MTC) where he will stay until he heads to Buenos Aires, Argentina, in December.  How did this happen?

When Garrett was a little boy he sang “I Hope they Call Me on a Mission” with the best of them.  We always assumed that he would go.  We were active members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, of course he would go.  It was an easy decision, a no-brainer. 

Then, suddenly, it was time to actually commit to going, to turn in the papers, to make the decision official.  And it wasn’t so easy.  Garrett wanted to know for himself that it was the right thing to do .  So he thought about it a lot, prayed about it a lot.  Waited a bit.  Did it again. 

We talked about it.  A lot.  With Garrett, I’ve learned that there is a line.  You push too hard, he pushes back.  It needs to be his decision.  Finally we all said, you know, maybe you just need to jump in, submit the papers, then see how you feel.  He decided to do it.  On his own timeline.  Because he was ready.

Once he did he felt good.  Right.  Scared a bit, too.  Sad about leaving us, and his girlfriend.  Nervous.  He got his call May 4, 2011.  He was going to Buenos Aires, Argentina.  He was thrilled.  It was EXACTLY where he wanted to go.  He felt sure that he had made the right decision. 

Time passed. He wasn’t leaving until October 19th.  Who had ever heard of a wait that long?  He turned in his papers at the end of March, and had expected to leave in weeks, a few months at the most.  We had heard of others who were leaving that fast.  But not Garrett.  So, he kept working, playing, hanging out with friends.  Getting closer and closer to his girlfriend.  He quit his restaurant job towards the end because he couldn’t stand it any more.  I was worried that he would sleep his life away and play too many hours of video games.  He did, for a while, then he decided that was stupid, and he started working out, doing things with me, playing with his brothers, bringing his friends around our house even more.  This time turned out to be a gift.  A gift to me.

The big day of Garrett's leap into a new part of life was approaching.  We planned his farewell- a celebration of Garrett and his desire to serve others and the Lord.  It was a wonderful event, a wonderful weekend (see previous post).  

The days ticked by.  We made lists of things he still needed to buy, needed to do.  We checked things off.  Bags were packed. It was time.


I was a little (well, more than a little) worried about Garrett going.  Was he going to be okay?  How would he handle the separation from his girlfriend?  Would she be okay?  How would he handle all of the rules?  Would they make him want to rebel?

Ah, parenting older children.  Full of lessons for the parents.  You just can't control, or fix, everything for your kids.  As much as you would give your life to do it.

His setting apart as a missionary was beautiful, amazing.  The blessing he was given was perfect, just what he needed.  Just what I needed. 

Garrett with his "last meal",
fittingly a Caesar Salad

The big day came.  We drove him to Provo.  Went to lunch.  He clowned around with his brothers, pulled faces for the camera.  We drove to the MTC.  He smilingly said he felt like he was going to throw up.  Said that maybe he needed another month.  Decided it wouldn’t make a difference, he was as ready as he could be.  Pulled up to our assigned spot, number 25.  A couple of elders helped him take out his luggage from the van.  They told me that Garrett was going to be okay, that this was a good place, that he was going to be well taken care of.  His friend (brother for the day) took a video of us saying goodbye.  We took a few pictures.  The whole thing took maybe three minutes.

We drove away, bawling.  Breathe, Janet.  I’ve said that a lot these past days.  The first few days after we left him at the MTC I felt weird- sad in spurts, anxious, emotionally worn out.  I'm doing better every day- less anxious.  More peaceful.  I've sent letters and a package- just some treats and little holiday things and such.  I want him to know that we love him, that we support him, that he is going to be okay.  More than okay.  He is, and is going to be, wonderful.

And so are we.

Not so Quiet, but Oh so Wonderful

Me and my men, quite the handsome bunch.

Its a quiet Sunday afternoon at my house.  So different from this time last weekend.  Last weekend was the most un-quiet weekend I've had in a very long time.  And one of the best weekends of my life.

I had been preparing for the not-so-quiet weekend for a long time.  I made my lists, "Must be done", "Like to do", etc..  Many items on these lists.  Found I wanted to do the things on the "Like to do" list (things like painting my backsplash in the kitchen- came out well I think!) ever so much more than things on the "Must be done" list (like thoroughly cleaning our too-many bathrooms).  Made my way through the lists remarkably well, for me.

The weekend started with a fun evening out with friends- dear friends, from here and from oh-so-far-away.  A night with friends where we went to four restaurants before finally finding one with where we didn't have too long of a wait, but who cared?  What we ate?  Trivial.  Afterwards coming home to my sis Lyn and her husband Mike who had just driven in from California.  Then, after midnight, the arrival of my awesome brother Dan, who I hadn't seen in two years, but who I related to instantly as well as if it had been only a moment.  Love these people.  Stayed up until 2:30am talking, moving from one room to another saying that we really should go to bed, and only finally stopping because of the big events awaiting us the next day.

Baptism preparation, aided by Veggie Tales

My son Lucas, who just turned nine, has mild/moderate autism.  His brother Max, thirteen months younger,  has serious learning disabilities and can be quite the *angry bird*, especially with me.  When my three older kids turned eight, there was no question that they would be baptized members of our church.  With these boys, it was a little less clear.  We wanted to be sure they understood what they were doing.  We decided it would be better if they were baptized together, going down into the font and being immersed could, after all, be scary.  Would Luke throw a fit and refuse to go in?  Would the family and friends waiting witness a meltdown (or two) of epic proportions?  Would Max loudly tell me to "shut up" and that he "hates me" like he often does when he is stressed?

Turned out my worries were unfounded.  When Lucas went into the font he beamed from ear to ear.  Holding his dad's hands, he looked up at the loving family and friends watching and loudly exclaimed "Hi Guys!!".  Everyone couldn't help laughing, even at this sacred time, but it was a laugh filled with love, understanding and appreciation for this boy.  Max was equally sweet as his big brother Garrett baptized him.  I was SO PROUD and filled with love for these boys, who have come SO far, and overcome SO much.  After the baptism these same family and friends came to our house and ate lunch with us while the kids played and we all visited.  Just perfect.

After a fun trip to the mall with friends (a mall girl I am definitely not- too cheap- but still a fun girl's time out) the cooking bonanza began in preparation for my son Garrett's mission farewell the next day.  It was a talking, cooking, snacking, laughing, running-to-the-store, extra-large Coke Zero drinking party late into the night.  And I loved it.

My missionary

Sunday morning Garrett and my husband Spence talked in church and my girls, my sister Lyn and I sang.  Oh how I love these people.  Garrett started out joking, like he always does.  Someone told me that they were watching the Stake President's face, and that he was smiling as Garrett started joking, then grew a little concerned as he continued joking, then relaxed into a smile as he grew more serious and gave an awesome talk.  So proud of this kid.  I'll be writing more about him later this week.  Oh man.  Can't start writing about him right now or I will totally lose it.  Must. be. strong.

I was fine until the girls and I were about most of the way through our song.  We sang "The Lord is my Light", one of our favorites.  Truth told, we pulled the whole thing together the night before and that morning.  We sang the first verse in unison, then Erin sang the second verse as a solo, then we sang the third verse acapella and the fourth verse with Erin singing a descant.  A dear friend said that Erin doesn't have a talent, she has a gift.  I agree.  I "lost it" during the acapella verse, when I looked at my girls standing beside me and thought about my family, and how incredibly much I love every one of them, and how blessed I am.  Breathe, Janet, just breathe.  Hold in those tears.  Hold it together.  You can do this.

Then the visitors came over.  First wonderful family and friends from outside our neighborhood, then so many from our neighborhood.  So much love, support and friendship for our family.  Overwhelming.  Laughing, small talk, heavier talk, hugs, delicious food, generous gifts to Garrett to help with his mission expenses.  We love these people and never want to move away from this place.  

Eventually the crowd thinned, then the clean up began.  Not much, just enough to keep us busy as we continued to talk.  A call came, come over and visit, we want to see you.  Pictures on the couch with my bffs (did I really just use that term?).  So much of my life I have longed for these kind of friends, friends I can be 100% myself with.  Friends who understand me, see my faults, and love me anyway.  Thank you friends, for helping me be more  of the "me" I've always been down deep inside.  

Now a week has passed.  Mikell has gone back to Provo to survive another week of second grade.  I'm sitting at the kitchen table typing away while Max and Jake go in and out of the door playing (yes, its Sunday, but parenting rules have become more lax with more time and children, get over it). Luke is skipping from room to room picking up various pieces of paper to hold.  Garrett is re-visiting a Star Wars video game he hasn't played in years.  Erin is doing the last few things she needs to do before she goes on a dreaded business trip in an hour.  My daughter on a business trip.  One of many.  A trip somewhat like the one her dad is on right now, the one that will keep him away as Garrett leaves Wednesday.  Breathe, Janet.  

Life is good.