My Favorite Week

This week has been one of the best days of my life.

One of those times that makes life worthwhile.

It all started with our baby boy coming home from his mission.

Two years is a long time to go without being with someone you love so much.

Here we are at the airport.

We spent a lot of quality time together from that time on.

One of those days there was some clay pigeon shooting.

Here is a sample of that.

I love how the cousins got along.

Here is L.E. giving Ira a kiss on the cheek.

We had a scavenger hunt.

This is a picture of my team.

AND we were the winners.

We went on a little family history tour of the graveyards in the valley.

We stopped at an old building which was a store in our grandparents day.

This was on the ranch that my grandfather owned at the time.

Stina had t-shirts made for everyone with the Hatch Family Reuion printed on them.

Here is a result of that. This is a favorite picture of mine. Rocky and two of his boys. I sure do love these guys.

Grandpa and all the grandsons. (Except one, who wasn't there yet.)

I thought I would throw this picture in too.

I think it is so precious.

Arvella is named for Pearl's mother.

It is so cute how she is looking right at Pearl and listening to her.

Arvella is almost 3 months old.

I LOVE being a Grandma.

Okay, Stina, I warned you that I was going to borrow your pictures.

My blog is like a piece of my history.

I really need to put in more pictures.

So here are two of my most precious grandchildren.

Arvella is my youngest grandchild until May or June when the next one comes.

Actually, Ira is the next to the youngest grandchild.

So these are my two youngest ones.

Don't you just want to hug them.

I know I do.

NINE!!!

We are officially in the single digits for days until Ryan is home.

I've never liked 9 so much as I do right now.

I got a letter today. He's scheduled to have a baptism 4 days before coming home. This is what he hoped and prayed for. I am so proud of this guy for working hard up to the last minute.

I got his bedroom all ready. Complete with fresh sheets on his bed, the closet all organized with only spotlights that work stored in there, and his Christmas presents sitting on the bed.

Yes, I said Christmas presents. This year we didn't want to send him anything he would just have to pack around with him and he didn't need anything at all that he could use on his mission. So we wrapped up notes telling him what he would be getting as soon as he got home. They are: a new fishing pole with accessories and a new cell phone. I also made some scrapbooks for him. His mission scrapbook, of course, and a scrapbook of the history of his life so far.

Okay, I need to quit thinking about this and move on because now 9 is starting to feel like an eternity.

CANCEL!!!

Cancel that last post.

I am now officially excited to see my son come home.

I don't know why it took so long.

I don't know why I ever felt anything but pure joy.

Whatever it was, it is gone.

I am so excited to see him.

I got a letter from him today.

He makes me laugh every. single. time.

In this one he was telling us of his plans for when he gets home.

He talked about a job, school, AND that he was going to find the hottest lds girl and marry her.

Now that is pretty specific.

He is on the right track.

I love this boy. (OOPS, I think he is a man now. Oh well, he will always be my baby.)

What is WRONG with me?

Wow. I really don't get it. My missionary son is coming home three weeks from today and I should be ecstatic, thrilled, joyous, (all the other words that apply). And actually there are moments when I do feel like that. But there is this underlying fear in me. It is similar to the way I felt when he left, but not as intense. So I am making a guess as to what is going on with me. And maybe, just maybe, it will help to write about it.
I think that the pain when he left was more about change than the absence of him. Not that I didn't miss him. I did. But the bigger pain was about change. I think. After a few months and after I knew he was okay and happy, I adjusted. In fact, I have loved my life this last year or so. I have loved the closeness that Rocky and I have developed. I love how my time is mainly my own. I love how my house usually stays pretty clean so I can focus on my hobbies more. AND most of all, I have loved the letters from this son. He has written to me every single week except a rare few. He has also emailed me almost every single week. I have seen inside of him I could not have seen in any other way. I have watched him grow and develop his great personality and talents. I HAVE LOVED IT.
So, I have come to the conclusion that I really don't want him to come home. I don't want CHANGE. I like it the way it is right now. I am afraid of the change that will come. But at the same time I miss him so much that it hurts and want to see him and want to be part of his life more on a daily basis. Okay. I get it. I am really not easy to please, am I?
But I guess what I am going to do is keep telling myself that I will adjust and that this will be a wonderful adjustment in my life. I know that in my head. Let's get the heart in on this too.