Missing My Boy

Today is Matt's 21st birthday, and I'm a-missin' him somethin' fierce tonight.  Wow!  Don't get me wrong.  I love missions, and I especially love what they do for my kids.  Rachel came back from Georgia a much-improved version of herself, and I suspect/hope that Matt is doing the same kind of maturing down in Honduras.  But I miss my kids on their birthdays.  A lot.

When the sign-up sheet to feed the missionaries came around on Sunday, I noticed that tonight was open, and making dinner for the elders seemed like the perfect thing to do on Matt's birthday. I had thought to myself that I would just pretend that the missionaries were Matt and his companion.  That would ease my loneliness and make me feel closer to Elder Young in some weird way.  Well, it didn't turn out quite like I had planned. Transfers happened this week, and the "elders" turned out to be sisters.  It wasn't quite what I had envisioned; it was better.  These sister missionaries were awesome, and I loved having them in our home.

I even made a birthday cake for Matt (carrot cake with cream cheese frosting, which was his favorite when he left), and the sisters humored me by letting me light candles and the whole nine yards.  They joined us in singing "Happy Birthday" to Elder Young, and it was really quite cheesy but fun.  I let them blow out the candles, and they wished for more successful missionary work in the Cloverdale Ward.  I wished that Matt was having a happy birthday in Honduras.

Thanks, Sister Del Nero and Sister Willard (her SECOND day in
the field.  We were her very first dinner appointment.  Very fun!)

And, Elder Young, when you read this upon your return, please know your mama was missing you just a little extra on your birthday.  Stay safe, and return with honor!  I love you to Honduras and back!!

Elder Young and Elder Permann: companions in the MTC,
companions in Honduras.  Didn't see that coming. . .

Goodbye, Friend

An alternate title for this post could be "Role Models, Part 2."  Back in June, I wrote about Brother Taylor and how much influence he had had on both Adam and Matt while he served as their Young Men's leader.  I am very grateful when my children, or Mike and I, have the privilege to associate with good people.  I don't take that gift lightly, and I feel like we have been very blessed to have many amazing people in our lives to inspire, befriend, and encourage us.

Recently, another man who has been a very positive role model for all of us went Home. Yes, capital "H."  Russ Rowley lost his battle with multiple myeloma a little over two weeks ago, and we are feeling his absence immensely.  Russ was a member of our bishopric up until he could no longer serve due to his fight with cancer, and he got to interact with my boys very regularly.  They loved him.

We met the Rowleys around fifteen years ago.  Their daughter, Ali, was the exact same age as Rachel (26 minutes younger we once figured out), and they played basketball together on several teams.  Russ was even the coach for their Y-ball team in second grade.  As Rachel said, "I think we were the only second grade team in the valley to be running actual plays."  He was a good athlete, but he was also a fun coach and a joy for anyone to be around.

Rachel and Ali were baptized on the same day, and our paths continued to intersect. When we were finally in the same ward with them, I was thrilled, and when Russ was put in as a member of the bishopric, I thought, "He's perfect for the calling."  Happily, I was right.  He served with diligence, faith, optimism, happiness, and endurance.  I think I was most amazed when I went to visit him in the hospital after he had a bone marrow transplant, and he diligently followed up on speaking assignments that he had issued to me and Adam.  I'm thinking, "Wow, Russ.  I think we've got this.  You just go back to fighting cancer, and we'll handle our talks."  Amazing.

One night at Young Men's, the boys and leaders were playing kickball.  Before Adam even returned from the activity, Mike got a call from Russ, asking if Adam was okay. Apparently, there had been a collision close to home plate, and Russ landed on top of Adam.  Russ wasn't a petite man, and Adam did say his foot was killing him.  However, he didn't dare tell Brother Rowley that it hurt because he didn't want him to feel bad.

I don't know if Russ was feeling guilty about the accidental collision or what, but when it came time for Adam to do his Eagle project, Russ signed up immediately to help the whole day.  He showed up early, stayed through the whole backbreaking, dirty process, and did it with a smile on his face and a frequent laugh and constant words of encouragement.

When I went to look back at pictures of that service project, most of the ones I found of Russ were of him with his head down, just working and doing more than his fair share without acclaim or acknowledgment.  That was pretty much Russ, a hard worker who didn't need people cheering him on to do the job.

Working shoulder to shoulder with the Young Men

Not afraid to get dirty. . .

This one makes me tear up a little.  I'm SO grateful
for the influence Russ had on the youth.  Priceless.

Who needs to have fun on a Saturday when
you can help Adam Young dig ditches?

This is probably my favorite picture of Russ that
day.  Just hanging around, waiting for all of us to
catch up with him.

A couple of days after Russ passed away, I came downstairs to find Adam wearing this rather odd T-shirt.  I'm thinking, "What?!"  When I asked him what it was all about, he said that Russ had brought it to a white elephant Christmas party a couple of years ago and that he had won it. "I just feel like wearing it today."  I completely understood.

As tough as it was to say "goodbye" to Russ, it made me happy to have a packed house at his funeral.  Just me and seven hundred or so other people to celebrate his life. Goodbye, friend!