I’ve told you about my thoughts, feelings, and experiences now. Looking at all that occurred in a few years, I never could have anticipated most of it. You might be able to anticipate tomorrow, but never the full two years with all its wonders and adventures. Never could I have known growing up as a small child in Utah the wonderful people and places that would be awaiting me in another country, in Mexico in my future, or that I'd be able to speak a different language with them. I’d grown up with such anticipation to serve a full-time mission and prepared myself long before I put in my mission papers but nothing could have prepared me for the abundance of things I experienced and learned (See "Mission Call -- Reynosa, Mexico"). When the time did come to leave home, we were all a bit teary-eyed because we wouldn’t see each other in what felt to be so long (See "Set Apart and Setting Out"). That was not uncommon, to feel some sadness in saying farewell, but let me tell you, that saying goodbye to the mission was slightly harder. I knew I was going to see my family again; I had that in mind from the beginning. But I’d met so many wondrous people who meant the world to me, and now saying goodbye, I couldn’t say when I would see them again, if ever in this life. But peace replaced the pain.
I don’t recall much that happened on the flight home. I must have fallen asleep a few times and you can understand why after all I'd gone through. It was a long flight, and for the first time in a hundred weeks, we could rest from our labors. I couldn’t believe what was happening. I felt the heavy tug of gravity as we lost contact with the runway and watched those patchy green and brownfields and towns beneath us shrink. How small it all looked! How many miles we had walked in 2 years! To think that we probably walked as far as the eye could see from a plane, and back again a couple of times through dirt, and mud, and rain, and grass, and rock. It was the strangest feeling imagining all the people down there carrying on with their lives as always, and now we were about to join them in their normal endeavors of mortality. School, work, etc. Like everything, that plane gave me a higher perspective, and quite literally.
Soaring above those ghostly clouds again, I saw a sea of white cotton candy as far as the eye could see like a sea floating on an invisible surface. But once above them, the clearest dark blue sky and hot white summer sun shining through the airplane window. I felt its solar rays hit my dark skin; something I was no stranger to by now. We flew over mountains. How long it had been, sweet mountains! I excitedly tried to gauge how close we were since time had lost all meaning on that distracted flight between the group talk and the sleep. I recognized Utah Lake and things became familiar. I saw the streets that I knew. I'd driven on them hundreds of times in my life, ever since I was a child. The buildings. It all came back to me. It’d been so long, it almost felt like none of these things had existed in space and time in my absence but now they were coming back to existence just for us. In what was faster than I’d imagined once recognizing Provo, Utah below, the plane started to slowly descend in preparation to land in Salt Lake. Our blood started pumping. Muscles tensed. I felt like my family was so close already and I hadn’t even seen them yet!
We all agreed that we would exit together, no man left behind. The plane landed and we rolled along the tarmac. We wasted no time running into the terminal. Once the last man got off the plane and the eight of us regrouped, we went jogging down the airport hall like marathon runners. Not wasting another second caring for our surroundings and all the other travelers staring at us as noisy as we were. Elder Johnson and a few of the guys recorded the moment. Elder Johnson put on the yellow headband that his family had sent him in a package for this very occasion. It really was a marathon! I could hardly keep up with them we were jogging so fast. I’m surprised they knew where to go because I certainly had no time to get my bearings. We endured to the end of the mission race and at last, we saw that finish line clearly. In what felt like mere moments from the time we exited the place and had started jogging, I saw a myriad of reflections in the shop glass windows as we turned the corner and heard cheers louder than a stadium during the Super Bowl! In front of us, held back by a rope, an impenetrable wall of waving hands, jumping bodies of all ages and sizes bearing large signs and colorful balloons. This crowd seemed to fill the whole airport, all for us. It seemed at least a hundred or more people came to support and welcome home the eight of us. I literally could not see where they began or ended. What an honor! It was everything I imagined it’d be.
It all happened so fast! As soon as loved ones were in sight, our group disbanded each to his own welcome party. Before I could even admire the faces in the crowd, directly in front of me, the first person I saw was my sister, and without a second to waste, I went full speed ahead to hug her. It was so fast but I could see her breaking down in tears the closer I got until I embraced her and I insisted that my whole family come in for a group hug. There was no way I was going to wait for each to take turns! I ducked under the rope and began hugging each one, my dad, my mom, my grandparents, my friend Austin and his family, and a few other family members including some cousins and uncles, and aunts. It was emotional for all of us! In the midst of it all, I noticed that my sister looked a little green and sickly looking. I’d hoped I wasn’t the cause of it. I knew that there was no way she would stay home sick on a day like this even on the brink of death. I asked her if she felt okay and she asked me if I’d read the sign. Of course, I didn’t read the sign! Why would I waste a second reading a sign when I had people to hug! I was sure it would be like all the others, “Welcome Home”. But when she and Alex held it up, it read “Welcome Home, Uncle Logan!”. It took me a second to realize what it meant. “I'm not an uncle. Am I? Wait… what? Are you serious?! You’re not serious! Really?! How long have you known? Did you just find out this week?”. “No, we’ve known for over a month now”, ‘over a month! And you didn’t tell me?!’. I couldn’t believe it! What a wonderful surprise! I wasn’t sure that day could be any better. Turns out that she was pregnant before we had our Mother’s Day Skype chat two months before. They told me she had pneumonia, which is what I attributed her weakness to when I’d seen them over Skype, but her pregnancy was a complete surprise. If she’d waited until I got home to get married, I wouldn’t enjoy the wonderful relationship I have today with my adorable nephew (who just so happens to share names with his dad, my dad, and myself; see "Eternal Family"). I suppose the least she could do was give me a namesake, even if it's his middle name, haha. And what’s more, is that I now have another adorable Nephew and an adorable niece. Who’s to say what the future holds?
Everything felt like a dream and I mean that in a sleep-eyed, just woke up, wondering what is going on and partially hallucinatory state. I was still tired, and my family kept trying to get me water and food from the vending machines, but I was just in a blissful shock. I didn't want to talk. I walked slowly. I hadn’t walked slowly in years. I don’t know if everyone just wanted to hold me but it was almost like they were trying to get me to lean on them like I was going to fall over or something. Just getting in the car and hearing my family’s familiar voices in person was awesome but strange. I was fearful of waking up the next day to discover it had all been a dream. I didn’t want to stop listening to their voices. I’d gone so long without hearing their voices! I felt like I was breaking some mission rule being home. I still felt like I was supposed to be somewhere, always checking what time it was, still wondering with whom I was to eat lunch. I felt like I was wasting time when in reality, time was mine again. No one to report to. No companion. Freedom. We went to the chapel so I could be released as a missionary. To be "released" simply means that you are "relieved of duty" so to speak. It was fast. The Stake President seemed very serious, although I don’t believe it was a bad thing (See "Set Apart and Setting Out" and "Church Organization"). He asked me to share my testimony and I was at a loss for words (See "Testimonies and Trainers"). How could I express something so beyond words known to man? I had had a total of two interviews in those two years. It was nerve-racking to be in one again, with my whole family present. When I told them that I didn’t think I could share my testimony in English, Alex told me, through teary eyes, that I should do my best in Spanish (He knows Spanish too because he served his mission in Panama). I shared a few feelings in Spanish but still fell short of the magnitude of what I felt. I can only imagine what my family thought and felt hearing Spanish come out of my mouth like it was nothing. I’m sure they were impressed and proud. I'm sure, if not already before this moment, that they knew that I was not the same kid who'd left. When I was asked to remove my name tag for the last time, I was ready. I’d heard stories of many returned missionaries struggling to give it up and crying because of it, but my emotions and identity didn’t come from the name tag. I missed everybody who I'd met but I knew that my service in Mexico was complete and accepted by the Lord, my leaders, and myself. A new mission in Utah, one without a name tag, was still to come and to endure for the rest of my life. I removed the name tag with ease and the Stake President again called me Logan. I didn’t feel like my name was Logan. Who was Logan? It's like when Frodo calls Gollum "Smeagol".
And that was all. He said the word and I was "released" as a missionary. This meant that my "calling", my responsibilities and authority that pertained to such, as a full-time missionary, was officially over (See "Prophets and Callings"). There was no laying on of hands (See "Administering to the Sick and Afflicted"). He handed me my name tag back to keep although I was no longer allowed to wear it. My Stake President gave me some good advice to adjust back into life. Part of his advice was to not worry about jumping into things right away. He told me to take time for myself to relax. He encouraged me to continue with good study habits although it would not be as intense as the mission. He told me to maintain all those Christ-like attributes and positive habits I had developed in other places in my life.
I was not the same person I was as when I had last stepped foot in that same office, my last night home twenty-three months ago (See "Set Apart and Setting Out"). Everything I was before was magnified tenfold. The little things didn’t concern me. I didn’t have an urge to immediately turn on the TV and watch the newest movies or listen to music. I went into my clean room with my bed made and things ready for me and discovered my closet filled with new clothes. I’d gotten rid of most of my clothes before leaving home. I put on a red, white, and blue shirt and shorts to celebrate being in America again. It was weird to wear shorts! My pasty legs felt exposed now that they weren’t hidden behind slacks. It felt extra weird to feel the fuzzy carpet beneath my feet; I was so used to wearing sandals around the tile-floored house that being barefoot was new again. I put my luggage on the floor. For having just gotten back from Mexico, in the summer no less, the 70-degree house felt like a fridge. Good thing we had a closet full of blankets, unlike the single gray blanket I had been given in Mexico (See "1st Area: Monterreal, Rio Bravo"). I am very much a blanket lover. How good my bed felt! How strange it was to have a room to myself.
My sister, Alex, and I went to get burgers which I requested doing before leaving Mexico. My first meal home. It's like Tony Stark says in the first Iron Man movie after he returns from captivity, "First, I want an American cheeseburger". At the restaurant, my sister hands me a dollar bill to “hold on to for her”. I didn’t think much about it. She asks me if I like her car. It was nice, but again, my mind wasn’t preoccupied with nice cars. When we get home and out of the car, she asks me for the dollar bill back. I give it to her and she puts a car key in my hand and tells me that it was mine. “What?!” I couldn’t believe it. I asked her if she was absolutely sure and she said, “Yeah, you just bought it for a dollar”. How many surprises could I get in one day?! First a nephew on the way, and now a new car! Christmas just kept coming. I felt so blessed. I knew that the mission brought blessings, to myself and all my loved ones, but I didn’t expect so many all at once within hours of being home! And I know that not all blessings are material. Serving a mission and all the experiences that came with it are priceless and if I had to do it all over again I would.
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