My Eyes are Wet; My Heart is Full

We left to take Elder Moore to the airport, doesn't he look sharp?

The whole way up to the airport I was fighting tears. When we arrived, and parked, and Elder Moore emerged from the van he asked me to look at his hand. It was shaking! My husband gave him some encouraging words and he teared up immediately, which then set off my own set of tears that could no longer be controlled.

We also were still waiting for my grandson's arrival and that my daughter was still waiting for the Pitosin to kick in. So we were at the airport and I was alternating between tears at seeing my baby boy leave us for two years, and checking in with Son-in-law for labor updates. While I was sitting there, by myself, tears stinging and threatening major floods again, I thought I heard my Dayna's voice say, "Mom, I've got this. Don't worry." Of course there was no one there to verify.

We ate lunch at Cuentes resturant there in the airport. My 16 year-old son asked if he could take Elder Moore's place and go in his stead. We reminded him that he still has to finish high school. He said when it's his turn to go on a mission, he's not going to shake because it's going to be "Freaking awesome" to go on an airplane and be in the MTC.

We walked Elder Moore to the security checkpoint and then my husband turned to Elder Moore and said, "It's time." I fell into tears immediately. The goodbye was then bittersweet and emotional and I took photos between sobs.

I feel an overhwhelming sense of joy, as a culmination of the efforts we have put forth in raising him and feel it's the payoff for all the worn out jeans in the knees, the stitches, the band-aids, and the mistakes in judgement. The day that our whole family has looked forward to for 19 years has finally arrived and he's on his way to learn how to be an ambassador for Christ. Yet, at the same time, there's an overwhelming sadness because even though he will be back in two years, he will never be my little boy again. He will come back a man, independent and ready to pursue his own dreams and make them realities. The time for band-aids skinned knees are gone. Somewhere in all this a mother has, in a way, lost her own sense of identity and has to yet again redefine herself as the mother to another independent adult son. I can't seem to find the word because bittersweet doesn't quite take in what I'm feeling. Maybe there needs to be a new word in the English language.

We left Elder Moore at the security checkpoint at 1 pm so he could go through security and get on his 1:40 flight. I watched, and bawled, until I couldn't see him anymore. And then I really fell apart. I wonder if he knows that he took my heart with him?

A woman with the last name of Terry approached us and asked if we were sending a missionary off. We told her that we were indeed doing just that! She said she had been watching and could tell immediately. She said that she is from Rio Rancho and is sending her own son off next week--her first-- and watching us part from our son brought tears to her eyes and gave her a glimpse of the emotions she will be feeling a week from now. She thanked us for letting her be a part of that special moment, gave me a HUGE hug, and told me that if her son can be in the MTC the same time as Elder Moore, she knows that Elder Terry will be in good hands.

Meanwhile, likely at the same time my husband uttered those words, "It's time" to Elder Moore, somewhere in a hospital 6 hours away, a doctor was likely saying the exact same thing, because literally minutes later, my Son-in-law texted me a photo of my new grandson, William David, 6 lbs 9 oz which he said was taken as soon as the baby was born and he could get the phone out. Then I started bawling again.

So all afternoon I've had tears of sadness, tears of joy, tears of anticipation, tears of worry, and tears of happiness, and tears of love. I thought about one of the hymns we sing in church that goes:

My eyes are wet; my heart is full.
The Spirit speaks today.
O Lord, wilt thou my life renew
And in my bosom stay.