I arrive at transfer point. There are hugs and hellos and then some goodbyes. We are a little late so not only is there work to do; but also, a little bit of pushing. Soon the vans are gone. President pulls away only to have to circle back around. Someone forgot to put their bike on. I sarcastically think to myself. “He’s loving that.” But years of practicing control makes him able to circle around without it being a big deal.
A few minutes pass, and I realize that Elder Kin_____, our recent assistant, has left without saying goodbye. Tears spring into my eyes. How did that happen? Perhaps it is because Cowboys don’t cry so they just ride off into the sunset while no one is watching, or because when there is work to be done people like Elder Kin___ and my husband are so busy with the task at hand, they don’t think about anything else. I am mad for a moment and then Elder Robbin’s teachings that champions don’t go to the blamming list pops into my head, and I have to take my own responsibility. How could I have gotten so busy that I didn’t search him out?
My ride home is lonelier than usual. I enter a quiet home, and start getting ready for tonight’s departing group. A memory of my first transfer keeps me company. Elder Ko____ and a couple of others showed up ready to vacuum and straighten up. At that time I hardly knew what I was doing, but I was glad to have the help after hosting 30 missionaries. Eighteen plus months later, life is much more predictable. Things happen in cycles. Including a hurting heart that heals with time.