A mini replica of a moto car that mama frida got me. she hugs me a lot.
My dear Mother. I’m writing you all for the last time, and I feel. . . strangely calm. I’m not freaking out. I’m not hyperventilating. I do have a strange pit in my stomach, but I’ve lathered it with a thick layer of denial, and left it alone. I hope—
Lies. I just read my itinerary that the mission just sent us, and it appears to have ripped off the denial and it came off like cheap Band-Aid. Dying. I’m dying. What am I doing? How am I possibly getting on a plane and what if I never see all these people again? You know what I don’t like doing? Loving people. Loving people is so overrated, and complicated, and makes my insides do things that aren’t okay. Ugh. I want to sit down and cry and also maybe dance because I’m going to hug you for the first time in months and months and I don’t like this.
It appears that I’m in a state of internal conflict. Getting along with other people is hard enough, but getting along with myself should be a God-given gift. But, chiste, natural man.
On the bright side, I have Keith and patches of kale to look forward to.
Okay. I have to compose myself. Alexandra and Jose got baptized this week, and they just glowed they were so happy. Yesterday they both bore their testimonies in church, and I was trying to suck back in the tears from behind the piano. I feel they have been my blessing. This area has been hard, and it was difficult not to be sad sometimes, but they came along and climbed over all the obstacles and problems and now they’re here, spirutal babies, but hold all the keys in their hands in order to keep going.
Andres, a young man in the area, was also baptized Saturday. He’s a whipsharp little thing, though he looks the usual teenage rebel, but he loves learning, and is already dragging family members behind him to church. To us they had little interest in listening to, but to him, they all follow and obey. He’s going to do marvelous things, I’m sure of it.
They are all that I’ve ever wanted in the mission. They’re people who love living the gospel. I choose to believe that they will remain active and participants of the gospel. We’ve worked so hard with the members too so that they know of their existence, and I hope the very, very best for them.
I suppose my work is done here, and while that hurts in a way that I don’t know how I’ll ever explain, I guess I need to accept it.
I hope there’s piping hot lasagna awaiting my return, because I’m sure it’ll be the only thing to soothe my aching heart. But also, I like lasagna. Yum.