Scared and Excited All at the Same Time

Benson's mission president asked that each family write to their missionary a special letter for the holidays that will leave them uplifted and know of our love, to be read privately during their mission-wide Christmas Conference.

I'm kind of proud of this letter because I was able to express myself clearly and it tells the story of growth in both child and parents. I don't think he'll mind my sharing this letter with you.

Dear Sweet Benson,

We are bursting at the seams with joy over you.

You have given us so much to be thankful for and I know my heart will be more tender this holiday season not because I’m missing you but because God is good to us and I am so grateful that his sacrifice by the atonement has taken seed in your heart.

Let me tell you a story.

Once upon a time, Dad and I were newly married, and we decided we wanted to become a family. One month went by with no news and I cried because I thought my fears of being barren were true. The next month the most amazing miracle I could have imagined in my life became a reality! Dad and I were scared and excited all at the same time.

It was a difficult pregnancy, and we didn’t know if we were having a boy or girl. The night before your due date we went for a walk and talked about what we imagined parenthood would be like. I told dad we hadn’t decided all of our parenting strategies for if things get hard. He laughed and said it would be OK. I went into labor the next day and there was no turning back. Dad and I were scared and excited all at the same time.

We held you in our arms late into that first night while we had ice cream at the hospital and talked of all of our dreams for this sweet little boy who we decided needed to be named after one of the greatest men we knew. He needed a great name so he would remember how great he truly is, and the potential within him. We talked of our Baby Benson someday serving a mission and I cried, on the very day he was born, because I would be sad when he would leave. Our hearts had swollen 3 times their size! Dad and I were scared and excited all at the same time.

As you grew and more brothers and sisters joined the family, it was apparent to us more and more that agency was a far bigger contender than we had bargained for. We wanted to keep you safe and pain-free of mistakes but you were determined to choose your own way… which really is far better. You taught us to step away and allow your agency, and this was good. I made many mistakes trying to understand my role as your mother but I learned to rely on the spirit. You taught me that. Letting go and trusting…. well, Dad and I were scared and excited all at the same time.

You began to study the gospel for yourself. Many times we would come down to chase you into bed and you would be reading the Book of Mormon, so how could we fault that? Our boy was becoming a man and choosing a path we could not force. Many times you were the only young man attending temple prep class long before a mission was a reality. Attending the temple with friends regularly and blessing the sacrament with dignity. And then, the mission age change came in conference and in an instant everything changed. Dad and I wondered if we had taught you everything you needed to know since we were suddenly out of time. We were scared and excited all at the same time.

The day you left on your mission was very surreal. I noticed you taking big breaths but I also noticed you smiling a lot. You were more excited than you were scared and we were proud of your amazing attitude. I wondered at how I could handle my heart bursting with so much love for you. I wondered also at how my heart could handle missing our first-born and I remembered that first night in the hospital and tried to fathom how the time had gone by so quickly. You came to us and left us ...2 major destination points only about a mile away from each other. We knew you would do great but we also knew it would be hard. How did we feel? We were scared and excited all at the same time. :-)

Since you have been gone we have had blessings poured on our heads. It has been witnessed to us over and over again that you are exactly where the Lord needs you and that your and our sacrifice is accepted. I would like to attempt a list of blessings we know we have received as a direct result of your service:

1. An increase of love between family members. Everyone realizes that being together is not a permanent way of life.

2. Joshua has increased his preparation in every way and is becoming a valiant servant because you have led the way.

3. The basement flood. Yes, I mean it! Although it has been a difficult trial, the living space in the basement would never have been improved so thoroughly without the disaster and insurance help. We have better been able to deal with all the treasures you and Josh have kept over the years. Our home is greatly improved and this trial has been a far bigger blessing than we realized.

4. I have easily found 10 violin students, which is unusual. I teach 2 days a week. It’s perfect, and I am able to bring in added income that adequately helps pay for your mission! I met a lady once who discovered a craft as a way to pay for her son’s mission, and I actually wondered if I would ever be able to do the same. My violin has been here all along, I love to teach, and the pay is great. I set my own schedule and I do not have to leave the home! I am so blessed, and I know it is because the Lord needs you, and soon, Josh.  If you’ll recall, I started teaching just before the mission age change and I believe that was the Lord prompting me to already have it in place.

5. Dad received a raise and promotion this year. What a wonderful and timely blessing.

6. I have come to know and love Kenzie. She is a strength to me and so willing to share herself with the family. The girls look to her as who they would like to become and I couldn’t be more grateful for that influence. Her testimony and ability to love is beyond her years. I trust her and feel a kinship with her that has been a surprising blessing in my life.

7. Our health has been good. You have had good health in the mission field.

8. Alex and Jackson are growing up with your missionary influence. I have several times overheard them in primary mentioning “my brother, a missionary” in their comments.

9. The spirit has helped us to still feel close to you in many ways: A song that you loved that comes on the radio. The photo-shrine in the kitchen, lol. Your weekly letters that are so personable. Preparing packages to send to you. A quiet assurance that you are doing OK, despite difficult situations you have faced on your mission.

10. Lastly, we have been blessed with seeing a new side of you. Perhaps even glimpses of the great man you are becoming. I could not imagine it. I could not even dream this stuff up. Your heart has embraced the gospel and you understand how Christ loves us, what our purpose in life is, and you are more determined than ever to work hard and serve more faithfully. The Lord will need you to accomplish great things, as you are a valiant servant and disciple of Christ.

No, our family will not be the same when you come home. It is better. Our hearts are softer. Our testimonies stronger. Our resolve to have an eternal family has never been more purposeful. We are doing our best to invite Christ to be at the center of our home.

We are still working hard at our imperfections. We have fun, too, and try to laugh a lot. You might get a kick out of this… Alex took to heart a comment I said the other day to the kids about keeping the basement nice now and lovingly told me, “Mom, I love you so much that I promise never to fart in the basement.” What greater love is there than that? :-)

You are blessed at this time of your life to have an intense consecration of your life to the Savior. As your mission president wisely has said, “Hoe to the end of the row.” Look back with no regrets. Know that we are being hugely blessed at home because you are serving. I love your letters! I really do. Monday is my favorite day of the week because I get to get a glimpse into your life and I get to put thoughts down in my letters to you.

We are blessed because of you and I hope you feel blessings because of us. We earnestly pray for you and are turning our home into a mini-MTC, as requested by our Stake President. Support for Elder Rice runs high priority around here!  I put your name on the Motab prayer rolls every rehearsal and broadcast and we pray as a body of saints for you and many others, and that’s a powerful thing.

You are now the steward of your own life. We can only feel excitement for you, and are shedding any “scared” emotions because our responsibility for you is shifting to your shoulders comfortably. You are a man in our eyes, no longer the 9 year old boy living in our cocoon. You've permanently got residence in our hearts, which will always be dedicated to loving you! We are excited to keep watching the process of your life unfold and hove total confidence that you will keep doing remarkably as a missionary and in the years to come. You have leadership strengths, and gifts of comforting others, clarity of thought, and identifying the deeper message that our Savior is trying to teach you. You are generous, positive, and a man of action. You have so many gifts to help you be a great disciple of the Lord, and that is all He needs of you, to have a willing heart.

You have been such a blessing to Dad and I.

All my love,

Mom

Sausages and Love

Have you ever played the game, "Sausages"?

It's a family favorite. Here's how you play: ask a question, and the person you ask has to always answer, "sausages". The better the question, the more clever you are, the more you can make others laugh, and then you win.

Something like this:
What's your favorite ice cream flavor? Sausages.
What's coming out of your nose? Sausages.
What am I wrapping for you for Christmas? Sausages.
What do my legs look like? Sausages.

And trust me, it can get really gross when you have creative children.

So lately I've been thinking about love.

Honestly, I think our main purpose to come to this world is to learn how to love. To increase our capacity to love. To improve our definitions of love.

A small child just learning about life believes that love is when you give them something. A toy or french fries, for example. As they have experience, that definition increases to include more and more and more. We kiss them and love them up and show them that we love them with our time, our service, and our words.

We show them another definition of love with our rules and boundaries. When I have a teenager that tells me I don't care about them, I try to remember that their understanding of love is limited and that through experience they will come to understand that I loved them all along.

I love to see a new couple getting married. I think to myself, they are just beginning to know what it is to love, even if they think they have hit it's highest point. They will learn what it means to love unconditionally. They will learn to love someone that isn't always perfect, even someone who can sometimes cause them pain. Sometimes love is easy, sometimes it is not.

As you have a child, you are amazed at the instant love you feel for them, not knowing anything about them even. Anticipating another child you wonder how you will have enough room in your heart to love both the same, but just like the Grinch on Christmas day, the miracle is that your little heart can grow 3 times it's size. More room is made in your heart for each child, every time.

Guess what? You aren't finished there. Are you ready for the growth of watching them reach potential? More swelling, more growing. Are you ready for the growth of wanting to strangle them at times but replacing the big dark space with love instead? Easier said than done. I've had God literally put love in my heart if I would just open the door and ask when I didn't think I could. Unconditional love is one of the hardest challenges I have faced, even if it seems like it should be easy.

One day as I was pondering the latest frustration of one of my children, I heard the words in my mind, as if that child were asking, "Will you love me even if I (fill in the blank)?" And then I think they challenge you further. "What about if I do this? Or even if I do that?" Many many times I have had to play that dialogue in my mind to keep my perspective in check, and it really has helped so much.

Will you love me even if I refuse to do homework?
Will you love me even if I am mean to my little brother?
Will you love me even if I tell you I don't want to be in this family, I don't love you, and you are the reason I am miserable? (Yes, that happened. Broke my heart.)

And we think to ourselves sometimes, "If they loved me, they wouldn't do that!" But they don't completely understand love yet. Nor is it their job to make us feel loved. Our responsibility is to love them because we have a greater capacity and understanding to do so. We hope as they feel love from us that they will in turn want to give love, and often they do. As their definition of love expands they learn how to show and give love better. But it's developing, it isn't perfect. We might have to look hard for it, and when we do, encourage it.

So back to my "Sausages" game.

What if we re-wrote the game so the answer is always, "love"? I am coming to believe it IS the answer... Christ's greatest mission is to teach us that the answer is always LOVE.

Something like this:
How do I get my child to practice their music? "Love".
What if I have children who are always fighting? "Love".
How do I enforce rules that seem disregarded? "Love."

It even works in other situations:
How can I reach more people in my calling? "Love".
What about family members who have pushed away our love? "Love".
My sister is living in a drug world and causes so much pain! "Love".

I am reminded of a time when Josh at 3 years old unknowingly destroyed a new couch by puncturing the vinyl leather with a ballpoint pen over and over while happily talking on the phone with Grandma, not thinking about the consequences of his actions. At this time in my life, I was a young mother with 3 kids under 4 and my patience was tried countless times a day. As I discovered what he had done and his mind finally attended to what he had done, he was horrified and for a split second before I was to explode, time seemed to stand still and I was taught a crucial message. "Joshua is more important than this couch." Well, of course I knew that. My anger began to deflate and I scooped him up in his tears (of fear) and loved him until we both felt better. That lesson has been of far more value than any couch, and I've come to hear those words many many times in my mind, reminding me the very lesson President Monson has shared, "Never let a problem to be solved become more important than a person to be loved."

Recently, Alex age 4, dumped out sand we had collected from a trip to Hawaii in a water bottle a few years ago so he could fill it with water and have a drink. Dumped red sand, on the back patio! A treasure and tradition we have always done, to collect sand from special destinations. But guess what he proudly tells everyone the last few days?

"Mom says I'm more important than sand!"

Ideas are Brewing, it must be Halloween

I have an idea for a book. OK, I'm borrowing an idea for a book from a friend.

She titled it "It Worked For Us" and was intended just for her children. Actually for her grown children. Chapters covered a topic that they found to be true, and then she and her husband shared examples. Everything from parenting topics to relationships. Like a Yoda/Jim Gaffigan mix. Truths and humor.

Ever since I glanced through it, I've had ideas running in the back of my mind. I think it's time to start writing, even if I'm not done learning and discovering all the truths for myself.

I'll try out some chapters here on this blog as I write them. But I want some feedback, added wisdom.

Deal?

Facing my Stuff

It was our turn for our basement to flood. It seems that almost everyone I know has had it happen, so yes...our turn.

If I were to do my "sweet and sour" about this experience it would be:

1. Sweet: we needed new carpet downstairs anyway someday, so why not a kick in the pants?
2. Sour: EVERYTHING from the basement had to be evacuated to either the garage or upstairs. I'm getting a little overwhelmed by the boxes and clutter. You see, the majority of the stuff downstairs was purposely kept downstairs while waiting to be dealt with someday, and in some cases they are boxes of "stuff" that have been shuffled around for 15 years.

Oh yes, at the start of the summer, although I had several big events planned, I kindly prayed that I would somehow attack and conquer my "stuff" by the end of summer. Careful what you pray for.

So now it's upstairs ruining my life.

My girls wondered aloud if we were unknowingly on an episode of "Hoarders". So last night as my self-therapy I watched an episode for the first time and I was horrified. Yes, horrified at hoarders and horrified that I might have become a closet hoarder in utero, so to speak. Seriously, those people need a backhoe.

These are the sound clips that scared me most:

"It wasn't always like this. I guess over the years you collect more than you realize."
"Billy Bob, you can't get much money for your Barbie collection that includes Barbara Streisand. Just let it go."
"I didn't know there was a dead cat under all my stuff." No, seriously, there was a 10 year old dead cat they pulled out. On TV. In my face.

HOARDERS TV SHOW-DON'T WATCH IT- UNLESS IT'S HALLOWEEN

FOR THE RECORD THIS IS NOT ME

I've got my work cut out for me upstairs while the downstairs gets overhauled. Bleh. My goal is a bag of trash and a bag of D.I. items out of the house EVERY DAY. I'll take pictures of things I think I have to keep to remember, just do whatever it takes to free up my closets. My other goal is to not find a dead cat in my stuff.

Meanwhile, Josh has been completely displaced from his flooded bedroom. He moved into the upstairs family room for a mere 24 hours when he realized he couldn't be in the middle of everyone ALL the time. I have to hand it to him, he came up with a pretty good solution.

As you can see in the background, the girls thought it wasn't fair that their bedroom didn't flood... so they set up their own tents as well. It's a whole little community in my backyard now.

THEN I watched a second episode of Hoarders. In this episode, the family had to move into tents into their backyard because they couldn't live in their house anymore. And I felt real peachy...because it hit too close to home... I secretly wanted to have a tent in the backyard, too, to get away from the mess.

My only solace is that in a few weeks- please don't let it be months-, we'll have the work done and we can live in more than 1400 sq. ft. (plus or minus with our outdoor living spaces). School has started today and already I'm attacking and dejunking stuff with the stereo screaming and it feels good. I'm facing it. And it's not going back the way it came out.

We'll be better off for this trial, I can feel it already.

2 Corinthians 8:2
How that in a great trial of affliction the abundance of their joy and their deep poverty abounded unto the riches of their liberality.

Move over, Corn Girl

Remember the can of Corn Girl? (Josh's first prom choice)

Well, she's forever the Corn Girl (I actually don't know who she is thank goodness) because guess how she finally answered him? On Facebook. Lame! Corn Girl: "Yeah, so I didn't know your phone number or where you live so I'm telling you I already was asked so I can't go to prom with you." That's it. Like 5 days later. Not in person at school or anything. Wow. I've lost my faith in humanity girls the Corn Girl. I bet she didn't have a kernel of fun at the dance.

Anyway. Back to the story.

Josh, the man who bounces back and keeps on trying asked yet another girl (after the second girl got engaged). Girl #3 is a girl in our ward, recently turned 16 and a year younger than he is. She's a really great girl, and after Michael did some reconnaissance and found out she hadn't been asked, doesn't have a boyfriend, and isn't imminently close to marriage, Josh formulated a plan.

Fortune cookies soften and bend open when you heat them in the microwave he told me, so he printed up new fortunes to replace the original ones. Messages asking her to prom and promising great fortune. It was perfect. He then placed the fortune cookies in a Chinese takeout box and delivered it --complete in Chinese disguise with his dad: Chinaman hats and goggles. They parked up the street, walked unflinchingly to the door, rang the doorbell, left the box, and continued walking up the street. And yes, I said goggles. (Later we found out she clearly saw them and thought it was funny.)

A couple of days later she answered with a bottle of soy sauce and said.... drumroll... "Soytenly, I'd love to go to Prom." I like this girl far better than Corn Girl already. I'm thinking she's a first choice level gal.

Prom was last night and he had a great time. Michael drove the bus even though he ran a marathon that morning and couldn't really feel his legs.

Alex's Straw

Alex is in Primary now and is learning all kinds of new things.

Today he came up behind me with a straw and blew through it on my arm. "Mom, did you feel the Holy Ghost?"

"Um, I didn't know that was the Holy Ghost."

"Yeah my teacher says you can feel the Holy Ghost with a straw because the Holy Ghost and wind is in the straw."

"Go see if Dad can feel the Holy Ghost."

"OK." Seconds later I hear, "Dad, did you feel the Holy Ghost? I blew it on you."

There you have it. Today we felt the Holy Ghost. Through a straw. They say you don't always feel it in the same way, but I have to say I still got goosebumps when I felt it on my neck the second time.

"See my heart Mom?"

Prom Asking at it's Finest

Last night at Sunday dinner, we asked Josh what he did Saturday night.

"Oh, a bunch of us guys asked some girls to prom." Really? Who? What? How?

"Yeah, so I made a nice looking sign, and I grabbed a can of corn from the food storage (oh no this isn't going to end well, I can feel it) and I wrote "I know this is kind of CORNY but CAN you go to prom with me?"

His name was hidden at the end of the ingredients. Of corn.

That's it? A can of corn. For prom. So..... when the girls are ga ga-ing about how romantically they were asked, your date will say.... with a can of corn?

Michael made him feel better by saying being asked with a can of corn is better than not being asked at all. Which... may be true.

Josh: "Yeah, and there were a bunch of cars there so I'm pretty sure she was having a party, so now I'm imagining them all gathered around my can of corn and saying, W-O-W that's... "special". I'm probably going to need to go to school tomorrow with a bag over my head. It seemed like a good idea at the time, but now.... Well maybe she'll say no and I can get another chance at asking someone in a better way."

Flash forward to tonight. Still no answer. He's pretty much expecting any minute a can of peas to show up on our porch with a sign saying "I'm PEASed you asked me, but I CAN't." His words.

"Besides, I think I just figured out that she has a boyfriend and he's probably going to come beat me up WITH the can of corn for asking his girl. Gah."

In the meantime, this morning Josh started coming up with a backup date idea. "There is this senior that I was thinking, hm, this may be her last big dance and she's pretty cool. I think I'll ask her to prom if the can-of-corn-girl doesn't work out."

"So I'm thinking of some really creative ways I can ask her to prom when she bursts into the classroom and seriously says, 'I just got proposed to last night!! Eeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!'".

So....       that's a no for prom then?

Strike 2. No wonder dating is so hard for guys. Now he's back to waiting for the can of peas to show up.

Adventure Time

Spring is making me feel like planning an adventure.

Michael went paragliding a couple of years ago. So jealous. Actually that would scare me.

Go somewhere. Anywhere. My house and the inversion have been starting to feel like a cage and the sun could not have come out soon enough for me.

Look what Santa brought and built until 5am on Christmas Eve. Apparently it wasn't his problem that we can't get it out of the house without disassembling it. Alex named it The Climbing Machine, and it brings the outdoors in for now. Hurry up spring so we can put it outside!! Yes, it's still in our house. Since Christmas.

Adding something to all that we are doing? no.
A formula that includes subtraction or division is what we need.

Stuff to do... multiplied by effort required ...... equals a very thinly stretched, high number that I don't want to talk about.

So instead, we will try this math problem: Stuff to do... divided by fun and not stuff to do.... equals 1.

I like the number 1. It's simple, it's first, it's conquerable. It's unified, it's easy to draw and doesn't require a lot of decoding.

So I will plan 1 vacation. And I will choose 1 book I want to read all day. 

This some1 is going to find some 1derful things to do.... 1ce and for all.

You are hereby called...

Since I'm on my missionary kick, I thought I'd include this video.

While we waited for Benson's missionary call to come, I can't tell you how many youtube videos I watched of young people opening their mission calls.  Everyone's reactions were different, but you can't help but feel the spirit and the energy.

This video is of missionary calls from a local high school, all graduates of 2012. Same as Benson.  LOTS of girls, it's just so cool.

How can you not feel it?

Family Pics!

The TRUE Rice family, but not-for-the-wall Rice family picture!

Sneak peak on our family photos, less than 2 days before Benson took off. There are more to come, but we are just waiting to get them.

Mind you, we were in about 10 degree weather, not even joking. That's why I'm blowing warm air on Alex's hands!

For those who haven't met Kenzie, Benson's cute friend. She's been adopted by us all!

E.T. Phone Home

Oh, MAN!

Last night felt like CHRISTMAS EVE, I was dy-i-ng for morning to come.

We hoped Benson would call this morning because he was flyin out of Utah to Texas!! He told a friend that he would be leaving at 5am and his flight would leave just before 9am.  Of course we were awake in that 5am hour..... and the 6am hour.... and the 7am hour..... and the 8am hour.... and so about 8:25am you should have seen us all, alternating between pathetically feeling sorry for ourselves, looking at the flight to see if it was on time, and warping our faces with an app on the iphone.

It was getting serious.  Maybe they weren't allowed to call, or changed flights, or maybe he would call when he gets there.

BUMMER.

Then the phone magically rang.  Jackson grabbed it first, and I grabbed the second line. BENSON!! His sweet sweet voice instantly brought tears to my eyes. I have missed his carefree laugh!

We quickly passed the phone around because he only had a couple of minutes.  He said they weren't even sure they were going to make the flight, it was a bit sketchy getting to the airport and all.

Jessica was so excited to talk to him she could only cry on the phone. I had made a list of questions so I wouldn't just sit there and say I LOVE YOU over and over and then afterward wish I had thought to ask good questions, but I threw that out the window with the lack of time. Kenzie got on the phone and he was emotional. Ah! I love that boy.

He had to go, so we all said ger-bye together and I couldn't help but cry that it was too sweet and too too short.

Then Jackson burst into tears because he didn't get to talk.  I mean, sobbing. I felt so bad that he had gotten skipped. I was comforting him and trying to shoo him off to his carpool waiting outside for school, when the phone rang.  Oops, we didn't conference call anyone in. Not even Michael or Grandma.

Hello?

It couldn't be possible, but it was Benson AGAIN! His flight was delayed, with the plane not even in the hangar yet, so we had some time. A LOT of time, like close to an hour. It was like bliss to me, hearing him go on about everything. We ran out of questions about the time that his flight was being called, so the window was perfect.

That might be the first time I've been grateful for the bad weather this whole month.

What did he have to say? Well, click over to his blog if you want to nose in!
eldertexas.blogspot.com

Letters Home

Well, it's begun. The first letter home arrived yesterday. Our mail had a snow hold because of our mailbox being buried, so it may have come even sooner!

Go take a read. One thing he didn't mention in this letter but said to a friend was that he and his roomates are all trying to receive more blessings of obedience by going to bed 30 minutes earlier and getting up 30 minutes earlier! I love that. Where in the world would you find young men of that age doing such a thing?

His letter blog can be found here. By the way, I renamed him Elder Texas. :-)

p.s. UPDATE: we just received an email a few minutes ago!  Double prizes!

Provo Provo Provo

One week into this and we are starting to realize our new normal.

I finally looked at the calendar past January 9th and realized I've got to stay in the game for everyone else. But I'm worn out from emotion and need a nap. Truly.

A vacation would be nice.

I took a day off yesterday and drove to Provo.  I wanted to deliver a huge package to the MTC for cheap ($2!) and just look at the MTC.  He's in there RIGHT NOW.  "And that's the very spot we saw him last."  Sentimental stuff like that. Mother stuff.

What I didn't expect was the trip down memory lane. 

It's where my grandparents met and where my dad grew up. Then it was where we took most of our family vacations while growing up in California and Oregon.

Provo is where I left home for the first time, my freshman year at BYU. It's where I grew into a real violinist, and where I made many lifetime friends.

Michael and I dated and were engaged while living in Provo. Our first apartment was TINY but it was ours.

I remembered the apartments where we brought our kids home from the hospital. The sidewalk Michael would bike up to school with me on the handlebars. The laundromat. The grocery store. We were so poor but we held so much that would blossom into the future we have now.

I was pregnant with Benson when I did my BYU senior recital.  I remember hitting my belly bump with my hand while I bowed some tricky passages.  He was born in the summer, just a week before I graduated.  I still had a paper and a final to take and then I could disappear forever from school into full motherhood, which I did gratefully.

It would be another five years before Michael finished school at BYU.  A bachelor's degree and two master's, consecutively.  In the meantime, we welcomed two more children and he finally graduated with #4, Aubrey, on the way.

So, Provo, good to see you again.  We were together for the most life changing 9 years of my life, and now you hold my son again, changing his life.

P.S. Provo, could you tell Benson to hurry up and have a P-Day so we can get an email??  As a first time concerned mom, I've only called the MTC once, no big deal, right? Fingers crossed for sometime by this weekend, and when he does, ya'll gonna know about it.

Goodbye

OK, it's been 2 days and I am surviving.  Surviving my heart ripping in half was no easy feat.

When your heart pounds that hard, while bursting with joy, melting and crushing.... well, it's almost more than I could take.  I don't think I've ever experienced anything quite like it.

Tuesday night he was set apart as a missionary.  The stake presidency came to our home, as well as grandparents.  My Christmas trees were still up awaiting their turn with me.  The Santa gift of a  jungle gym is still hogging the family room.  But we made room for everyone and it was magical, like a Norman Rockwell moment.  They asked me to start off the meeting with my testimony which I told them was mean, kinda. :-) I felt the spirit flow through me to him so strongly. Michael and the bishop bore testimony as well, and then came the most beautiful blessing... one to give him courage in all the aspects of missionary work. What a slice of heaven that night was. He became a missionary right before our very eyes, growing into it minute by minute.

That night he had decided to go to bed early, following mission rules.  Except... there were details to wrap up and late night conversations to be had.  He sweetly and emotionally told me what his last day had been like, and how hard it was to say goodbye to his dear, dear friend. I cried with him to think of his ability to love and be loved by so many. He has such a good heart.

The next morning, we did the actual packing.  No drama.  No panicking. He had everything he needed and it all fit and I helped him organize it and pack it all properly.  (Probably the last time that will happen!).  He wanted to go say goodbye to an elderly couple in the ward that he had been serving the sacrament to for about 2 years, so he did.  How sweet is that?  Then we were headed out the door.  Stopped by the bank to finalize our ability to use his account for his mission, and then headed to Provo.

Of course we took the bus. Whenever we take the bus anywhere the kids turn it into a party.  The seats and tables are situated to do that and it wasn't long before we were all laughing at the funny stories that they were telling. In no time at all we were in Provo, pulling into the Brick Oven.  We love the Brick Oven because not only did we go there during our BYU days, but so did our parents when it was called Heaps-a-Pizza. So it felt like full circle.

Michael had reserved a room in the restaurant, which turned out to be a great idea.  We had privacy, we could hear each other, and it felt perfect. There were 5 other missionaries there at the same time as us with their families, and Benson made it a point to introduce himself to one of them and find out more about him.  The other missionary looked white as a sheet, in stark contrast to Benson's friendly, happy demeanor.  A tender mercy for me to see him eager to meet and build common ground with others, with no fear.

Brick Oven

"Benson, I won't forget you."

Brick Oven hair cut chair

Everyone thought we had two missionaries going out. We thought about sneaking Josh into the MTC to see how long he'd make it without getting caught.

Last family photo at the restaurant.

Alex in his "jail".  Couldn't figure out how to get his cookie in the bag with his hand in his monkey trap.

We took some pictures at the restaurant, and Alex entertained us, of course.  We then wanted to take some pictures up on the hill above the MTC so we could have the MTC in the background. The little boys were a bit squirrly so I was frustrated and heard myself say "we are running out of time" and that made me sad.  We knew we had to say our goodbyes there because the drop off would give us zero time.  As we each took our times to hug him (Wilsons hug too long which make us cry) I saw Josh begin to get emotional, as did Benson.  When I hugged him, I kissed him on the neck and cheek and he felt so good and strong.

Aubrey, Josh, Elder Rice, my dad, the bus, and Jessica

My parents with Elder Rice

Michael's mom- Nanna and Elder Rice

The Brethren, laughing as usual

Proud parents and Elder Rice

The entire lot of us, just before goodbyes.  Wow, even the bus seemed to smile.

He never wavered, not even a hint. There was an eagerness about him, maybe a little naivety, but you could tell he was happy and ready. We pulled into the MTC parking lot and the attendant told us he'd had a bus, a fullsize bus before, but that "this was pretty good"!  We had to drive past about a hundred missionaries at the curb ready to bring in the fresh missionaries and they cheered and pointed and laughed at our crazy vehicle.  It was like we were on parade!  What a welcome!  We pulled into our slot, and jumped off the bus with Benson and everyone yelled out goodbye to him, some saying Ger-bye (an Alexism).  The missionaries ran up, hooked his luggage together while we gave him a last hug.  These cute missionaries, fresh from home themselves quipped "He's in good hands!" and I marveled at the positive energy coming from this MTC, and these missionaries.  He seemed to immediately be absorbed into them.

I cried as I saw how happy he was, walking in fast strides to keep up, ready to get to work.

I cried as I thought what lying in bed that night might make him feel.  Alone?

On the bus, we all melted into tears and I saw loss in the eyes of my other children as clearly as I felt my own loss. Josh sat next to me trying to hold back sobs as he lost his lifetime roomate and best friend and I felt his raw pain. I looked at my dad and he had streaks of tears down his face.  Each of us felt to grieve what Benson's presence had always made us feel. But we felt joy and pride.  I don't think I've ever felt such intense emotions that felt like a death and a birth all at once! Maybe that's normal for a mother's heart, but doing this five more times sounds unbearable right now.

Would I want him anywhere else?  No.
Will this strengthen him?  Yes.
Will this strengthen all of us?  Yes.
Are there people right now being prepared for Elder Rice's message?  I absolutely believe yes.

The intensity is less now but it's at a steady rumbling pace while we wait for our first letter.  We just need to know that he is OK, that he is more than OK. We love that boy and his presence in our home is obviously missed.

Godspeed, my sweet sweet boy. May your good heart go to those who need you now.