Just a thought.

Memories come out of the woodwork of this town--brought on by a street, a room, a song on the radio--and settle on me one by one like so much weight on my shoulders. That sounds more negative than I mean it to be--the memories can make me sad, but they can also make me smile. Coming back to this place reminds me that I've been alive. That I've lived a life, or at least the beginnings of one. That I've already learned a little bit, and that I won't have to start completely from scratch.

At the same time, it's overwhelming to come back to a world you thought you knew, only to find that the world and the person you left behind just aren't there anymore. It's all for the best, but one tends to flounder a little before finding their feet again. I'm still working on it.

Sometimes I hear a song I don't know yet, and the lack of memory attached to it is relieving.

Welcome to the world. :)

From the Mission: D&C 100:5-8

One day on my mission, my companion and I were at the home of a ward member for dinner. We sat down and she gave us our food, and then she sat down to talk with us. She started to tell us about one of her adult daughters who had been making some wrong choices. After describing some of the problems they'd had (all of which were pretty significant), she told us that she had told her daughter to leave, and that she could come back once she was willing to follow the family's rules again. After telling us all this, she stopped and said, "Hermanas... ¿Hice mal?" (Sisters, did I do the wrong thing?)

She looked at us, waiting for an answer. My companion was still learning Spanish, and I knew she hadn't understood everything in the conversation. I don't remember what I said, but I think it was something about how she has the gift of the Holy Ghost, and that the decisions made for her family are between her, her husband, and the Lord. I think I also said that as long as she followed the guidance of the Spirit in her times of need, He would direct her on the best way to help her family. It was one of those times when I had no idea what to say, but the words were given to me in the very hour that I needed them. In Spanish, no less!

Every so often I had experiences like this, and they were good reminders of our Heavenly Father's love in even the hardest of times. After a few weeks, her daughter came back and agreed to make changes in her life. In the time I was in that area, I watched the gospel change the life of this family. That opportunity was a gift from my Father for which I will always be grateful.

The Salmon of Doubt + late night + internet access =

This is one of those nights preceded by yet another unproductive day made more unproductive because you felt yucky the whole time and so you took something with caffeine in it around dinnertime, not remembering until immediately after that you haven't had caffeine in a long time and therefore you were in for a long night... so you got to bed around 10:30, played solitaire for an hour, got out of bed to change into pajamas, picked up a Douglas Adams book, and felt so tired you didn't even giggle as you started reading it and then you were caught in that between stage where you weren't awake or asleep--your eyes couldn't focus so well--so then you reached for your new smartphone and checked Facebook again...(spoiler alert: nothing really changes on there after midnight) and then decided to write a blog post that won't sound anywhere near as good tomorrow as it does right now.

Good night, all.

p.s. Anne says hi.