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.