Gozo

(Catch-up post #1, from end of September.)

As I think I've said before, back in August my parents left on a mission to Panama. They're serving for 23 months in Panama City, assigned principally to work with the Perpetual Education Fund (for more on that, follow the link--it's amazing!).

My parents have planned and prepared to serve a mission for as long as I've known them. Since they were married; well, probably since before that. For several years now they've been counting down until Benson could leave on a mission so they could go. And then they spent the past couple of years preparing medically, etc. Finally, it was time. And they've been giddy excited ever since they got their call. This summer Mother & Father were asked to speak to Rachel's Ward Prayer group and a few of us went to hear. I remember Mother saying, "This is a dream come true for us." And you could see it in their whole countenances--it is a dream come true.

For me, however, it has been really rough. I think I said this before, but my 2nd thought after hearing about their call was, Wow, 2 years is a really long time. I've always loved my parents (well, apparently--according to my journal--when I 11 I didn't realize I did), but I've become especially close to them over the past 3 years. During these years as I've been un/underemployed and have felt very lonely and have just had a really rough time, my parents have been the rock that kept me from drowning. Not to minimize the very real power of the Savior and his Atonement. But they were the people who have been my world. I talked to Mother A LOT. Sometimes multiple times a day, sometimes for hours at a time. I called about everything and nothing at all. And I talked to Father fairly often too. He was the one who would call, if I hadn't called for a few days, just to make sure I was okay (if 4 days went by they checked because I called that often). I don't know how to say it, but they've been there for everything. And I've become very reliant on them.

In the months and weeks leading up to their mission, I tried preparing myself, I tried steeling myself against what was coming. But the truth was, I was already starting to mourn. I think people think I'm crazy (well, I probably am), but it felt a little like they were dead. I mean, like death, they're somewhere I can't see them doing good things but not where I can get to them. (It did not help that at Christmas Mother gave away a lot of her belongings--why not divide them now? Um, because it makes it seem like you're dead. I had a complete melt-down and just went and cried in the room for an hour or so. And how to explain to Mother how I feel when she came to check on me?)  I grew up as part of a family and they're the only family I have left. My siblings are divided and doing their own thing; I love them of course and we're close still. But we're an extended family. My parents, however, were still mine. Until the mission took them.

I couldn't share much of that with my parents--the only ones who I've really shared so many raw emotions with over the past few years. They're so happy. I'm not going to tell them how I'm not.

They went to the MTC and were in the US for two weeks. I talked to Father on Night one and Mother once on Day 3 but then we never connected again. As the end of the US came up, I resigned myself to the fact that I hadn't gotten to talk to them. Until the day they flew out. I was in the kitchen canning all that morning; unfortunately my phone was in my bedroom when they called two different times trying to talk to me before they left. When I heard their messages, I lost it all over again. I cried so hard for so long that I made myself sick (literally). I was hurt and angry.

And I felt that way for a long while to come. On top of everything else, I felt guilty. Because I love my parents and I'm sorry that I'm so upset by something that makes them so happy. Because I love, love, LOVE my Savior and am so thankful that my parents get to serve him, to be his special representatives, to help others come to Him. I really am. And it contradicts so strongly with my own selfish feelings, that the conflict just adds another level of hurt.

In the first few weeks the emails from them were very brief. My mother, who has written long, wonderful letters to all of us for fifteen years (since Roland left on his mission) suddenly wrote these brief little emails. I mean the busiest sibling missionary did better than that.    I probably have no idea what I'm really talking about, but I think that the mourning that I went through then really ought to lessen the mourning when they die. I'm serious.

I cried fairly often and still felt bitter. Contradicted with gratitude for them, of course.

Finally, in September things started to change. I got to talk to them on Father's birthday (they were distracted, but at least I could hear their voices). Mother, then Father, then Mother sent long emails that filled in the voids. Father is keeping his journal digitally and he emails installments every month or so. It is absolutely delightful!! I suspect, before this is all over I really will say that this helped me grow close to my parents in ways I wouldn't have otherwise. [little side note: so many fun miracles as they learn the language and adapt to living in a city and doing their job on a computer (mostly that's Mother) and other things. But we're talking about ME here, not them. :) ]

But what really changed things was seeing this video. I'm even going to share it with you.
Panama (all the stakes and district) hosted this Welfare Fair. (It's all centered around the Church's 6 provident living/self-reliance focuses--which is my calling and I quizzed my parents on them last Christmas--love that it's part of their lives now!)  This is a fun YouTube video that some one made of the event.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4u9r49NwDHM 
(sorry that I have no idea how to put the video here, but you can link just fine I'm sure)

You'll see my parents--it's pretty obvious. Mother only appears once, but Father is there multiple times. And look at him. I've never seen Father so stress-free, so happy, so full of JOY! He carries his stress inside and even in joyful situations, he's usually worrying about something to make things work for the rest of us. It's gone. He is just full of joy. Combined with the image I have of Mother at the Ward Prayer, I see joy like Christ promises us when he serve him.   Okay, go watch the video now.

After watching the video, I cried again. Only this time, for the first time, they were tears of joy.

And I've been okay ever since then. I think the tears of joy were tears of healing too. I've also worked, as I did on my own mission 10+ years ago, to shift my reliance back to God. And I'm okay.

p.s. As Rachel and I discussed, one of the happy parts of the video is seeing the reality that my parents (particularly my father) are learning to love the Latin culture that has been such a big part of many of our lives. It connects us a little more. And bring some more joy.