And So It Begins...Again

Mark entered the Missionary Training Center today.

Deep breath...

I can't believe it's starting all over again.  Just six days after Ethan comes home, Mark is gone.

I know, I know.  It should be a happy thing.  I should rejoice in the fact that my son is worthy to serve a mission, and that he will have such marvelous opportunities over the next two years.

I can say (and write) those words, but I sure don't feel them.

I can count my closest friends on two hands and those friends include my husband and kids.  Losing contact with Mark is just painful.

I would like to say "here is a list of things that I'm most looking forward to hearing/seeing again when Mark comes home", but in my mind I think "here are the things I will miss the most, and how am I going to get by without them":

1.  Mark's chipmunk voice.  It doesn't matter where he is, he always answers the phone in his chipmunk voice.  I think he learned through the years that if he answers that way, it gets me in a good mood, even if I was about to yell at him.  Good plan, Markie-Boy.

2.  Mark's dance moves.  He breaks them out in the most random places.  Shoot, I don't think he can even walk down the aisle in the grocery store without dancing.

3.  Mark's gratitude.  Mark has always remembered to tell John and me "thank you" for everything.  He thanks John for the lifestyle he provides our family.  He thanks me for teaching him how to be a polite, upstanding boy.  Over the last week, I have been sent many random texts from Mark, telling me again how much he appreciates all I have done for him in his life.

4.  Mark's love.  Mark has the biggest heart of anyone I know.  He is so good at showing love.  Hugs, kisses, pats on the back.  You always know that Mark loves you.

5.  Mark's excellence.  Mark excels at just about anything he tries:  horn, German, yo-yo tricks, beat-boxing.  I take great pride in being his mother. Shoot, here at Interlochen he's a star, and no matter where I go, I end up introducing myself as "Mark's mom".  Whereas before people didn't say "hello" to me, once they know I'm Mark's mom, they are friendly and kind.  He has excelled in so many areas of his life--it's truly an honor to be his mother.

How Mark posed
when I wanted a
serious missionary
picture...

6.  Mark's humor.  Mark has introduced us to all kinds of new experiences, and videos, and quotes, all of which make us laugh.  I told Mark that above everything else, I'm going to miss laughing so much with him.  It's the best feeling, at the end of a long, hard day, to be buoyed up by Mark and his antics.

Again, I take a deep breath.  The letters will begin again--writing letters almost daily.  The much-anticipated phone calls at Christmas and Mother's Day.  Watching for letters in the mail.  And worrying. Lots and lots of worrying, and praying.

I told Mark that for once, I can relate to a scene in a sci-fi movie.  In The Matrix, when the characters need to learn something quickly, it can be downloaded into their minds within seconds.  I wish, like nothing else, that we could do that with Mark.  Take all the learning and experiences of the next two years and download them into Mark's mind, so that he could come home tomorrow.

However, I am reminded of something that our bishop said in church this past Sunday when Ethan gave his homecoming talk and Mark his farewell talk:  we will never know the influence for good both of these boys will be on the people of a country.  They may, at times, feel as though they made little to no difference, but their example will stretch through generations of time.

That can't be done in seconds.  And so it begins...again.  Two years.