The best two (only two more days!!!) years

Of course, since it was his last P-Day (day off) in the mission field, TMFKATB went and changed things up. Over the course of the last several weeks, his letters arrived later and later.

Not today. His letter hit our inboxes right at 12 Noon (10:00AM his time). Clearly, he had things to do today, like packing, and spending a chunk of time going back and forth with his parents who he is seeing in 48 hours was not at the top of his list. He entitled his letter "The best two years" and it was pretty much perfect (says his totally non-biased father). He highlighted a final busy week, peppered with fiestas de despedidas because the Latin people know how to bid farewell to someone, and saying difficult good-byes to people he has grown to love enormously. So it's been an emotional week and he's ending it the same way he started it. When he got to his new assignment behind the Zion Curtain, he was thrust into a trio, working with two companions rather than one. He's going out the same way, as his companion was called to a new leadership assignment this past Saturday, and so TMFKATB finds himself in a trio once again. He's taking it all in stride, as he tends to do.

As he closed his letter, he talked about some of the things he's learned over the course of the last two years. He bore witness of knowing that there is a God who is aware of each and every one of us. He bore witness of knowing there is a Savior, fighting for each of us, continually cheering us on. He bore witness of how lives can be changed, not the least of which has been his own. He called this service his best two years.

It no doubt has been. I know I felt the same way when I was in his shoes. On the last night of my own missionary service, laying on a bed in a hotel room in Ft. Lauderdale, FL., I pondered what I'd been able to do during my two years and I thought it would never get any better. Those were two amazing years. They were awesome but were the foundation for the rest of my life. In the thirty years since then, there have been too many bests to count. Too many.

One of the bests, though, has been these last two years. I know it seems crazy that going nearly two years without seeing (I now we got a three week reprieve but that was not a fun time) or being able to speak to your child could be described as best but it has been. Watching him grow and seeing the young man he has evolved into has been an experience I wouldn't trade for anything. This has been an amazing two years for us. TMFKATB's two year mission service is coming to an end. But there's more good coming. I can't wait to see where it takes him. And us, for that matter.

All good things must come to an end. But if they decide

to go on, I'm not going to stop them.

~ Clarence Fountain

Bimbo. Himbo. Whatever works.

I love this.

P.S. Watch this space for an update or two on Wednesday. TMFKATB comes home that day. Allegedly.

9 Days

The Real Salt Lake D Team

"See ya next week"

TMFKATB chose those four words as the salutation of this week's letter. Truer words have never been spoken. Indeed, we will see him next. He will be home in nine, count 'em, nine days! (Side note - why is it that whenever I hear the word 'nine,' I hear Dean of Students Ed Rooney uttering "Nine times!")

Today's letter arrived late and was pretty brief. He's clearly, and understandably so, preoccupied with his last days in the mission field. He's determined to go out strong and I am proud of him for that. He was a little reflective in this letter, noting that it "has been so cool to reflect on the people I have met and see how much they have changed." Because of the geography of his mission and the fact that he was a Spanish speaker, he didn't move around a lot during his service behind the Zion Curtain, so he has been able to see people change and progress in ways that other missionaries perhaps don't. I think that has no doubt helped him to see his fellowman in a different light. That insight is just one of the many blessings that has come from this two year service. I am so eager to sit down with him in a few days and hear him talk about all this. It's going to be pretty awesome.

So there's just one more letter. He confirmed that next Monday will be his final P-Day. I'm going to miss this. The last line of his letter today says it best:

Well, this is the last week, people!

Times / Days...you get the idea!

O Pioneers! (No, not the book)

Crossing the Sweetwater River
@lds.org

For the good residents ensconced behind the Zion Curtain, tomorrow is a day off. It's the official observance of the 24th of July state holiday. The state shuts down to celebrate that fateful day when Brother Brigham lifted himself from his sick bed in the back of wagon, looked over the uber-inviting barren desert wasteland splayed out before him that would one day become the Salt Lake Valley and declared, "This is the place!"

All along the Wasatch Front tomorrow there will be parades and massive consumption of fried foods. No doubt someone who is simply not right has figured out how to make "Deep Fried Funeral Potatoes" and served up they shall be. Because what better way to celebrate the sacrifice of thousands of people than gorging on foods that will hasten your death.

The legacy of the Mormon Pioneers looms large even today, nearly 170 years after their arrival into the Salt Lake Valley. Many of us can trace our heritage back to people who were in some of those original companies. The stories of those who died along that arduous trail are part of the fabric and ethos of many families today. They are stories that cannot, nor should not, be forgotten.

As I hear those stories, I know that there is no way I could have survived a trek across the continental United States, dragging a handcart or riding atop a wagon or simply walking, as many did. None. Consider my life: I have carried on active Twitter wars with our national rail provider over less than expected service. I have actively booked bizarre flight routings between two city pairs just to insure my First Class upgrade would clear. I was once more upset that I couldn't finish my chicken jeerza on a flight out of London because the flight attendants were preparing the cabin for an emergency landing than I was about the fact that our airplane was, wait for it, in mortal danger. When I was 18 years old and preparing to serve a mission, I was invited by some full-time missionaries to go out with them to get a feel for the work and I said no because I was afraid my new shoes would wind up looking like theirs (I was 18, remember, and it was the mid80s, so be kind).

So I am more than confident what I say that this whole pioneer thing would not have worked out for me. Also, had I survived and made it to the Great Salt Lake Valley, I'm afraid I would have taken one look at it and said, "Nope. I did not come all this way for this. I'm out. Seriously. I'm out. I've heard good things about that California place. Who's with me? Let's go." Of course, I would have promptly died somewhere in the desert but that's neither here nor there. I am able to honor my pioneer heritage today from the comfort of my home. I am humbled by what they did and what their sacrifice means.

But I'm just grateful it wasn't me.

So this happened on Mothers Day

Those smiles. Those faces. 

During the years that a missionary for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints serves, they are permitted to call home twice a year. They call home on Christmas and Mothers Day. With the advent of the interwebs,  it's safe to say that the vast majority of those calls are on the Skype or one of its competitors. So we were pretty excited about the chance we had to see and hear from TMFKATB.

Suffice to say, our 45 minute call with him was the highlight of the stunningly patient and mighty fine SML's day. Breakfast in bed and me cooking dinner paled, and rightly so, in comparison to getting to spend some time with TMFKATB. Even better was being able to patch in the Awesomes and CAL. Being all together, even it was via Skype, was truly a little bit of heaven and sure made us excited for the time, which is rapidly approaching, when we will all be together again. We had a lot of fun talking to him. His accent is, well, pretty Cholo / Ese, if I'm being honest. That, of course, led to a lot of good-natured teasing. He also informed us that his beard is now fierce and that he almost has to shave twice a day (hyperbole..yes, please). He also informed us that since being in Utah, his GI system has never betrayed him or, how do I put this delicately (let's face it, I don't), his underwear. Good to know.

In addition to those gems, he told us of his love for his service and the people he's working with. He smiled continually as he spoke of what he's doing. It was good to see him so happy. He followed that up today with a brief letter, given that we'd spoken last night. In this week's letter, he mentioned some of the challenges of keeping his zone focused on goals and his faith that this week would be even better work-wise. He believes that they will see miracles. He's a young man of enormous faith. I trust he'll see success.

What a great way to end Mothers Day. We saw our boy. We had our family together virtually. We gratefully counted our blessings as we called it a very good day.

A crazy week

The latest in mission casual wear?

Over the course of the eighteen plus months, rare has been the Monday that I've not been able to carve up my schedule so that I could dedicate time to the letter from TMFKATB. There have only been a couple of occasions where I've not been able get his letters or give him a decent response. This past Monday was crazy for me. Ironically, he entitled this week's letter 'A crazy week.' I got his email about 15 minutes before my craziness was hitting 11 as I was about to go on stage with Doug Parker, CEO and Chairman of American Airlines, to chat him up in front of 700 or so industry colleagues. Suffice to say, I wasn't able to interact much with TMFKATB this past Monday.

So that's the excuse for posting this week's update a little late. As for the update, he did have some craziness. He and his companion had been told as of last Monday they'd be training a new missionary. Within a matter of days, the threesome became a foursome and by the end of week, the two new missionaries were on their own, opening a new area. Things change quickly when visas come through for missionaries and that was exactly the case with the fourth missionary (a Mexican national serving in his home country until his US visa cleared, allowing him to head behind the Zion Curtain to serve the balance of his mission assignment). Suffice to say, it made for a bit of craziness for them all, but they seemed to get through it with flying colors. That's always good.

This week's pearl of wisdom came from TMFKATB in the form of this endorsement:

Draper is so sick!

For those of you who either do not live behind the Zion Curtain or are not familiar with the cities and towns that make the Zion Curtain what it is, Draper is a town south of Salt Lake City. Its greatest claim to fame, and it's dubious, is that it houses the charm-free Utah State Prison and was the site of the execution of Gary Gilmore. It is also the place where the first IKEA in the whole of Utah was built. A prison and an IKEA, going all 'Ebony and Ivory' is rich, given that they are both meant to hold people against their will.

Snowed In

Allegedly that's TMFKATB
in that shower of laser lights

Residents living behind the Zion Curtain woke up to a pretty big dump o'snow this morning. Here in Connecticutistan, where we currently have zero snow and are enjoying spring-like temperatures, this morning The Weather Channel was covering the Utah snow storm with a fervor usually reserved for, oh I don't know, one of those "STORM OF THE CENTURY" epics that wind up being a whole lot of nothing. Why I was watching said channel at 430AM this morning is something we can discuss another day because it's kind of creepy and just a little bit sad.

With the snow in mind, it made sense that this week's letter from TMFKATB was titled, 'Looks snowy out there!' From what he said, they won't be getting out and about today, their day off. It sounds like they could use a day in as he said they did lots of walking in the past week, as they worked with people all over their area.  He's had some good experiences in working with people in some pretty challenging situations, adding to life lessons that will serve him well. He's pretty excited about Christmas and has been pretty pumped about sharing this video.

As always, it was good to hear from TMFKATB. As we will be with our daughters later this week, it will be strange to not have him with us, but we wouldn't trade this experience for the world. He's growing and learning, but so are we. Progress and growth is always a good thing.

Pretty darn close

Dueling Painters

For the last nineteen days, the stunningly patient and mighty fine SML has been burrowed up behind the Zion Curtain welcoming our new granddaughter to the world. I joined her this past Friday and we had a wonderful time (more on that in another post). One of the odd things about visiting our family who have settled behind the Zion Curtain is that it puts us minutes, literally minutes, away from TMFKATB. It's just odd to be that pretty darn close and to not see him. The first time we were in Utah after he was reassigned there, I cried like a little girl when I saw the name of the city he was serving in on an offramp sign on the I15. It wasn't much better the next couple of times, until this visit. I saw that same sign as I drove and it brought a smile to my face because I was so aware of the happiness he's feeling as he serves, learns, and grows. For those Den readers who don't know, missionary contact with their families is limited to Christmas and Mother's Day calls and weekly letters, so if you happen to be where your missionary is serving, it's not like you run on over and say, 'Hola!' 

This week's letter reflected that ongoing happiness, growth, and learning. He described a week of ups  and downs, but if I'm being honest, it was pretty hard, even reading between the lines, to find the downs. He talked about some of the challenges with some of the people that they have been teaching but he wrote of seeing the progress that was coming from those challenges. He seems to be learning how to connect with people from all over the Spanish-speaking world too. He was pretty pumped to be working with an Argentine couple. The home-cooked Argentine meal he had and loved with them seemed to only endear him further. It made him happy.

As we drove to the airport and passed that infamous offramp sign early this morning, the stunningly patient and mighty fine SML and I talked about being so close, so pretty darn close, to TMFKATB. Neither of us had felt tempted to try and run into him. Frankly, it wouldn't be fair to him. These two years are his to grow, develop, and focus. These two years are what he has committed to God. They are not our two years, so it makes being pretty darn close more than good enough for now.

Pioneers

@empyreanbooks.com

For any of you that have ever done / spent time Behind the Zion Curtain in July, you know that this day, the 24th of July, is a big day in the Beehive State. It's a state holiday wherein the place pretty much shuts down to celebrate that fateful day in 1847 when Brother Brigham arose from his wagon, looked out over the desolation before him and declared, "This is the place!"

Wait, what? you may find yourself saying. If you were A) educated in the American public school system; B) grew up outside of Utah; and C) are not Mormon and you have no idea what I'm talking about, you're not alone. Pioneer Day as the 24th of July has come to be known celebrates the day Mormon pioneers, having been on the run from all manner of persecution, first entered the Salt Lake Valley and decided to call it 'home.' The story of the Mormon pioneers has been told many times and the stories of what they endured and the faith they demonstrated are amazing. The best I've ever read on it is in a book called "Journey to Zion" by Carol Cornwall Madsen. Madsen compiled the diaries and journals of myriad pioneers who made the journey to get behind the Zion Curtain and it is such a compelling read. I had ancestors who were a part of it and as I read Madsen's book, I could not help but be humbled and grateful for what these people experienced.

The 'pioneer' legacy looms large in Church culture today. The sacrifice of these people is legendary and is a part of the family history of so many members. Each year, literally thousands of youth groups from the Church recreate bits and bobs of the journey in the form of two and three day 'treks.' It helps connect youth to the past and to give them but a tiny, tiny sense of what happened all those years ago.

The stunningly patient and mighty fine SML and I, along with Our Lady of Awesome, did a trek together several years ago when we lived in California. We donned our 'pioneer' clothing, loaded up the handcarts (seriously) and with a large group of kids and other adults dragged our way through the high desert of scenic Riverside County (you know, the Inland Empire, or as it is truly known, 'The Land of Meth and Camaros on Blocks'). What made it all the more interesting is that the week before we were to make the trek I had fractured (hairline) my spine in a roller-blading 'incident' that we don't speak of anymore. The only way I made it through the trek was the modern pioneer's best friend, Mr. Vic O'Din. Some of you may know him. Anyway, it made it bearable. It also made it easier to forget some of the more challenging bits of the three days. I do to this day though, remember some of the actions of the kids on this trek. Watching them forget their own exhaustion and hunger and dropping everything to help pull another group's cart up what seemed like an impossibly steep hill stays with me today. It still inspires me.

That experience reminded me that I would have made for a lousy pioneer in 1847. Frankly, I'm not sure I would have survived. Let's face it, pioneering for me is having to fly Economy Class now because I've lost my elite status with a few airlines. Suffice to say, I am grateful for those who sacrificed and endured the way that they did all those years ago. They are for better than me.

He's back out there

With TMFKATB's return to missionary service, Mondays just got interesting again. We anxiously awaited the email 'ding' sound around midday, alerting us that news from behind the Zion Curtain had arrived. Sometime after 1PM our time, the emails started to arrive. They did not disappoint.

Young MC? Throwing shade? I don't even know.

In a word, he is happy. He is so glad to be out working and serving again. His letter made us smile and brought us a great deal of relief. His first few days have been a bit like Dorothy after she was kicked to curb by that pesky tornado when she mused, 'I don't think we're in Kansas anymore.' As he settled into his basement apartment and got a hot shower in a clean bathroom, our missionary had to say, 'I'm not in Mexico anymore.'

He's currently serving with two other missionaries but that will only be for about another week until the next transfer. He's really happy to be working with these two and says they are getting along great. He's delighted to be busy and talked about how much they've worked since he got there. He's using his Spanish and is already working with people from Colombia and El Salvador. He's really excited about that.

It was funny for me to read his letter and to note how easy it was to read. Amazing what an English keyboard will do. There was punctuation and capitalization. I nearly died.

There's a little bit of me that will miss the letters from Mexico. But I realize that and to borrow a well-worn phrase from 1847, 'This is the place' for him. He's excited. He's happy. I can't ask for much more.

Yeah, so not Mexico anymore

That Escalated Quickly

Proof! He made it.

Yesterday was an unusually good day in the City, aside from losing my brand-new Metro card (if I hear the MTA lament their budget woes one more time...they are sitting on a gold mine o'cash from all the unused balances on those stupid cards...but I digress). In spite of the rain, my train back to Connecticutistan, the one that is usually an hour plus late, was on time. That set off a little alarm bell in the back of my head. The other shoe was going to drop. Soon.

It dropped as I started down the escalator to my train. A text from the stunningly patient and mighty fine SML came in, asking 'Can you call me?' Something was up. I lose all phone service in the bowel of Penn Station so I couldn't call her. As I texted her back that I would call her as soon as we were out of the tunnel in Queens, I got an email but only the title would download (thanks again for the CRAPTASTIC wireless, Amtrak #firstworldproblems). The title read as follows: ITINERARY ELDER PARKER T LYONS

Wait?! What?! He only got his formal assignment Friday. Suffice to say, that escalated quickly.

Thanks to the aforementioned wireless (less being the operative word), I could not download the email until we got to Queens. Never has any one been so delighted to be in Queens than I was at that moment. At a little after 6PM, I read that The Boy would once again be called The Missionary Formerly Known As The Boy (TMFKATB) because he was leaving the next day at 830AM for his new assignment in the Utah Salt Lake City South Mission. I immediately called the stunningly patient and mighty fine SML and upon hearing her calm voice, I was reminded why I am married to the most amazing woman in the world. At this point, she'd known for about 30 minutes that her son would be out the door in twelve hours. She'd already outlined what needed to be done and was heading out the door with The Boy to pick up what was needed. Her voice betrayed not a hint of panic. She, as she always does, had it under control.

So I spent the next couple of hours trying to figure out if there was any way I could weasel out of the two conference calls I was hosting the next morning. They were starting at 6AM and would go to 930AM and The Boy needed to be to the airport early as he had no seat assignment for the first leg. I resigned myself to the fact that I wasn't going to be taking him to the airport.

When I got home, we spent a few hours together, packing and doing last minute things. The Boy called family and then he was set apart (religious ordnance) once again as a full-time missionary, so it was lights out at 1030PM for him. Suffice to say, it was not lights out for his mother and me.

This morning dawned early. We had a last family prayer and I dashed into my downstairs office as TMFKATB and his mother left for the airport. It was a flurry of emotions - pride, sadness (because I'm going to miss him), melancholy (stupid, stupid conference calls), love, gratitude - for me as they drove away.

Having him home for three short weeks was an amazing experience. We saw a young man exercise faith in such a powerful way. Several times while he was home, I could see him kneeling in prayer at his bedside. We prayed for his quick recovery and that he could serve again as he so deeply desired to do. Once he got his new assignment, he prayed that he wouldn't have to wait long before he could leave. His prayers were answered.

And so were ours this afternoon when an e-mail arrived from his new mission president. It included the picture you see above, I'll share the first paragraph of the letter:

What a pleasure it is to welcome Elder Parker Lyons into the Utah Salt Lake City

South Mission. I am impressed by his desire to serve. He is well and in high spirits as he 

anticipates the challenges and opportunities that lie ahead. Please be assured

that we will be watching over him while he is here.

So all is well in our world. So starting next week, it will be back to regular weekly updates from the field here and in his mission blog. I'm glad will be able to share those things again. Thank you all for being a part of this experience.

This Is The Place

Brigham called it and so did The Boy

Since The Boy returned from his eight months of missionary service in Mexico, our family's collective goal has been to get him back to full health so he could return to the service he loved. It's been hard for him to be home, caught in a limbo world between his life as a missionary and life at home, the last place he expected to be. We've been walking a thin line too, trying to give him space but being ever mindful of getting him better and wanting to keep him close.

Suffice to say, we were all extremely relieved when his infectious disease specialist (yes, we had to go to that level) cleared him last Friday to return to service. Interestingly, in his approval note, the doctor noted that The Boy would need to stay in the continental US. We had not said anything to him about that. With that approval, the waiting game was on for a new assignment.

A couple of days after The Boy got home, he announced that he knew he would be reassigned to either Idaho or Utah. I, for one, scoffed at either. I knew he'd be assigned in the US, as a SpanAm'er (Spanish-Speaking American assignment), and having served as a SpanAm'er in the Florida Ft. Lauderdale mission 30 years ago, I selfishly (albeit silently) hoped he might be assigned to my old stomping grounds. I think a father-son duo who think they are Cubans may have been the thing to push the stunningly patient and mighty fine SML over the proverbial edge, so it was not to be.

We learned yesterday what is to be. The Boy will follow in the footsteps of his pioneer ancestors and will settle into a desert valley nestled against the Wasatch Mountains. Upon his arrival into what became known as the Salt Lake Valley after a heinous trek, Brigham Young looked out over the vast expanse and declared, "This is the place." The Boy can now say the same. He has been assigned to serve in the Utah Salt Lake City South Mission as a Spanish-speaking missionary. He is excited and we are relieved. It's good to know where he'll serve the balance of his mission.

Now some of you may be shaking your head at a mission call to Salt Lake City. 'Isn't that the mothership?' you ask. Indeed, it is the headquarters of the Church and it is home to a whole slew o'Mormons, to be sure. It's that, for sure, but it is also a place with opportunity to serve, grow, and learn, like any other missionary assignment. I heard from a friend of mine yesterday as his son had served in the same mission as a Spanish speaker. He said, "Even though we were subject to wisecracks and disbelief that accompany a call to SLC, it was a great blessing for him and for us." Amen, brother, and thank you.

So now we wait. We have no idea when he leaves. This call was extended via phone, rather than the white envelope that normally is associated with a mission call, so there's a lot we don't know. We've got a few things to figure out in the coming days. Good times, my friends, good times.