Monday, June 12th, was the day. My son was to leave for his 2 year mission to Spain.
He had been set apart as a missionary the night before by our Stake President.
With this calling now upon him officially, he was to live the rules of a missionary. Some of these include: no TV or movies, in bed by 10:30pm, rise at 6:30pm and have companionship prayer both before bed and in the morning. His father was his companion for that one day. They each rose at 6:30am and then had companionship prayer.
I had made a list of things for them to get done that morning before he left. I had forgotten that he still needed to get his international driver’s permit so that was on the list of “to do’s”. So, they headed out the door at 8am to run some errands. True to form, he took some selfies on his father's phone, which was a nice surprise to see later, as though he knew we would need a reminder of his always fun personality.
Meanwhile, I continued to pack for him, wrote him a letter that would be tucked in his suitcase for him to find once he was at the MTC, and helped the other kids to get their morning routines completed.
The note in the suitcase is something that I have done for all of my boys. When they would go away on campouts and overnight trips, I would put a note somewhere in their luggage or sleeping bag so that they would have a little bit of home while they were away.
The time finally came for Alexander to leave. His bags were packed and he looked like a sharply dressed missionary, ready for the field. Isabella had made him a card. She gave it to him just before we loaded up into the car. Her card really made him feel emotional. He was finally starting to feel the emotion of leaving his family.
We loaded up the car and we made our way to the airport. We took a family picture and then took a silly one. I missed all kinds of turns that I normally needed to take because my mind was thinking so much about my boy. But, we eventually made it.
In the airport, we saw the Zapata family. We have known the Zapata family for about 25 or 30 years. Alexander and their son Jesse are the same age and were in primary together. The both received their mission calls to go to Spain on the same day. Kind of cool! They were actually originally scheduled to be on different flights, but I called the Missionary Travel office when we got that schedule and asked if Alexander’s flights could be changed to match Jesse’s. They were so accommodating! Which is great since the flight from LA to Paris was going to be a long one.
The family was able to visit with Alexander for about an hour. It was a light-hearted and enjoyable time. The last time together for a while. It was in the air, but we enjoyed the moment and celebrated the occasion.
After visiting with family for about an hour, it was time for Alexander to go up through security. He took time to hug and say goodbye to each family member. The emotions were strong and there were a lot of tears shed by all.
Up the escalator he went, waving his flag for Spain.
James and I went up the escalator to give him a private hug goodbye as his parents. The hugs were strong and firm and tears stained each of our shoulders as the other’s tears fell. It is unnatural for a mother to have to say goodbye to her child for so long, but I would never prevent him from fulfilling his call to serve. We stayed as he went through the security checkpoint. The security personnel knew he was a missionary and thus allowed us to stay near the area to wave, take pictures and video.
This last wave goodbye was the hardest.
My boy was gone. The tears now freely flowed for both James and I. We hugged for a few minutes and allowed ourselves to feel the very real and piercing pain of saying goodbye to our son.
* * * * * * * *
After a little bit of time, we joined the rest of the family downstairs. Joshua had had a really hard time after Alexander left and he sobbed. His uncle and his brother Daniel held him to help him get through his sadness. Soon, it was time for people to leave, but I wanted to watch his plane leave.
We made our way out of the building and to the sidewalk and walked to where the runway could be seen. It took a while, as many other planes took off and landed. The grandparents had to leave to catch their own flight back to Arizona. In the middle of that, my mother fell while trying to sit down. Her legs were weak. She is a diabetic and we later realized that she had not eaten in a while. She was very weak and James had to go to the parking garage to get her car and drive it down for her. We eventually decided that she was too weak to drive home, so James drove her and we split the other passengers. Thankfully, once she got home, got some food and some rest, she was better.
Ultimately, we were able to see his plane take off. That is when it really felt real and of course, the tears flowed again.
As we drove home and rounded the corner, we saw Alexander’s car sitting in front of the house. My heart skipped and I let out a gasp. For just a brief moment I thought he was home. I immediately realized he was gone and I cried all over again. Then, coming into the house, we saw his shoes in the middle of the floor. Again, more tears.
This was painful to miss my son so much. My heart was hurting. Aching. The house felt empty. His jubilant spirit, his singing voice, his chasing his little sister around, his wrestling with his brother…all of it was missing. I went in my room and cried. James went in the bathroom and cried. We allowed each other the space to cry for a while.
Over time, we knew that we needed to be there for the children. Isabella and Joshua had cozied up on the couch, somehow knowing that they were all they had for right now and their bond seemed closer. We had cereal for dinner because that’s all the energy we could muster. We prayed for our son and his safe travels and tucked the children in bed.
Day one was over.
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