I have been horrible about updating this blog. My Tia left on her mission in the very beginning of May. This was kind of a quick surprise because we thought she was leaving the end of May, and suddenly her date was changed up because she knew Spanish better than they thought. We changed her farewell talk in church to be the Sunday before she left, and invited everyone to our house for lunch after. My nice friend took pictures of our family that day, and they seem extra poignant because of the occasion. Except Kai's eyebrow raise makes me laugh.
We did a Cafe Rio type salad bar, and since I invited the whole neighborhood and all of our friends and family, I cooked for 150. We did not have 150. Heh. I had a lot of stuff for my freezer afterwards!
We set a few tables up inside,
and a few outside. I think it went pretty well.
That Tuesday night she was set apart as a missionary,
and the next day she left! So funny, my mom still talks about how I packed the night before I left on my mission and how stressful that was for her. Well Tia packed the day of. I couldn't complain since I knew I had done the same thing to my mom. Wait --I probably totally complained to her. That sounds more like me though I don't remember any of it. That day is all kind of a blur.
My parents came to the airport too to see her off, and we had to just hang out in this hallway place before she went through the NSA security line. Super awkward. We got to the airport two hours early like they say to, and then there was next to no line. You can see though in these pictures, that Tia's feet are pointing right to that security line. She was ready to go. I think we stood around for a half hour or so, and took pictures, and then she was ready to go through. So funny, she probably then sat in the boarding lounge for an hour and a half by herself, but I think she was just anxious to get going. Once you are set apart as a missionary (it is kind of like a blessing thing) that is supposed to be who you are, following missionary rules etc. I can see why she was anxious to get on with it.
She got into the security line and didn't look back although we all stood there like idiots and watched her progress. When she got to the other side of the screening, I screamed goodbye loud enough for her to finally turn and give a half wave (embarrassing my husband no doubt) and she walked off. It would have been worse if she were scared and crying right? Right? I guess a little part of me wanted that as a mom at the time, but it comforts me now that she was so confident.
She made it down to Argentina to the missionary training center, and went through the whole program in Spanish with the native Spanish speaking missionaries. Her companion in here was from Peru --kind of cool.
She whipped through that program in just three weeks or so, and now is in Uruguay and seems to be doing great.
Her letters make me miss her, and I do have some really sad days, but I am so proud of her, it is kind of a good kind of hurt.