Okay, okay. I know I haven't written a thing for a very long time. Shame on me! But I've been busy! Do you even know what it takes to get a young man ready for a mission? I had no clue, but we did it. We survived the "gathering" process, and tomorrow Taylor will have been gone for three weeks. I can hardly believe it. I know I should have been posting during all the preparation time, but I've just really not wanted to write. I've had so many emotions going on that it's really kind of difficult to express what I'm feeling.

I have been so excited for Taylor to be a missionary. This is something that you dream about from the time your son is born. I was a missionary. Corky was a missionary. We've both wanted our children (daughters included) to be missionaries, to have those same experiences that helped us to grow. To have their testimonies refined; to have their very characters defined by the difficulties, joys and people they meet. There truly is no experience equal to a mission: to have to reach outside of your own little world, your own little self and seek for something greater.

But I will miss him. He is my son. He is my firstborn, my 4-1/2 pound baby who wasn't supposed to make it. But he did. And now he is doing what he has planned all along. To serve the Lord and teach His gospel.

Taylor and I spent a lot of time together since he came home from camp the middle of last August. Every single day of the week, every week, every month until he left on February 24, we were together for at least part of the day, just the two of us. We made list after list, we shopped, we ticked items of the list, and then realized we needed a new list. We had fun, we disagreed, and we enjoyed being together. We didn't disagree a lot, but I found this really cool hanger. He was supposed to take slacks--he had five pairs of pants. This hanger looked similar to this.

Do you see how useful this little item is? Five racks. Five pairs of pants. The hanger I saw had all racks with a rubberized material on them so the pants wouldn't slip, as well as it hooked on the side (this one is open), so they pants wouldn't slip off anyway. I thought it was a great find--$6 at Walmart. Taylor thought it was dorky. He wanted regular plastic hangers. Okay, if I were the one going on a mission, needed to conserve space, hang five pairs of pants--I would choose this one single hanger. Just think, when you needed to pack, you could probably even keep the pants on the hanger and just lay them in the suitcase. But I'm a mom. Do moms know anything? He didn't take my nifty hanger.

Taylor was supposed to leave on February 23 and fly straight to Brazil, but we were informed the week before that his visa didn't come. So, on Wednesday the 24th, we took him to Provo to the MTC. It wasn't as hurried as we had been told, but we just drove him up and dropped him off. We did all get out of the car and give him final hugs good-bye, which were strained because he was so anxious to go. He was nervous and ready. He had planned for this for years, and for this exact moment for four months. He was ready, but I don't think the rest of us were. We were standing there with tears in our eyes and he was all grins and moving on. Moving away. Moving to a new life. And we were left just standing there.

The next night, Thursday, it was amazing that I heard the phone ring. Ask my kids. I never hear my cell phone ring. Or if I do, I never get to it in time and have to return the call. My phone was in my purse in my bedroom. I was in the kitchen. My phone rang, I heard it and got to it in time. Wow. It was Taylor--he was given five minutes to make one call, one phone number. If you weren't there to answer, too bad. He didn't get another call. He was telling us that his visa had arrived and he was leaving the next Wednesday. Two other missionaries in his district got theirs the same day. It was so great to talk to him--he sounded so happy.

So we planned to go to the airport. Even though they suggested we not go the airport, we decided that we needed to. And I am so glad! It was what we all needed. Taylor was relaxed, we were more relaxed. It was great. There was a whole troupe of missionaries--about 25 of them, including a senior couple. Talk about the Army of Helaman. And my son was part of it. Taylor was second in line to have his baggage checked, so we had plenty of time to talk. See, look at us. We all look so much more relaxed and happy. Yes, we took the kids out of school so they could say good-bye to their brother, again. This was just nice. We followed along the lines with Taylor through the security checks. We stood back and let them all do their things, but we were just there. He kept looking back to see if we were there, and we were. At the very end, the group could go left, right or straight ahead where we would no longer be able to see them. He went straight ahead, but we stood kind of in a hallway where people were coming toward us. We could see for a minute, then he was gone. Taylor came back into view, stood there and waived. I missed it. Never look away! Corky said, there he is-did you see him wave? I almost cried. We watched for another minute, and he came back. He made sure I saw him waving. We all called out that we love him. Then I did cry. I was great until then, but it really hit me. My boy was a missionary and he was going very far away. And I love him! But it felt so good. All day long I felt good; I felt grateful, I felt blessed. I was so happy that he was willing and able to serve. I am still feeling it.

Today we received emails from Taylor, second P-Day in Brazil. It was really fun. I was home and called Corky to see if he'd heard anything yet and while we were on the phone, Taylor sent an email. So I hurried and logged on, and the three of us wrote back and forth for about 20 minutes. It was great. I did have to coax him into writing an actual letter. We kept getting cryptic responses to questions, but finally he wrote something that I could post on his blog. What? Have you not looked at his blog yet? Please do! I'm having fun with it, but am hoping for some more pictures, current pictures. These are already so out of date. Okay, so from here, you need to go his blog.

But again--I'm on a high! Being a missionary mom is very wonderful. I recommend it.