:( (11/23/09)

Here it is, the final installment of my ten-year anniversary of my mission letters! This is the end.
 

We had interviews this week. I asked President Palmer if I had to be transferred. He said he could keep me here another six months. I was kind of surprised at his response, so I repeated, "Six months." Then he said, "That was a tongue-in-cheek question, right?" To which I responded, "Only somewhat." I wish I had responded differently. I think he thought I was ungrateful for the six months so he recanted. I should have accepted them.[1] I've never been so sad in all my life.[2]

I have to tell you some important stuff. The Clarkston missionaries live with a couple called the Larsons, who are heading down to Utah for Thanksgiving with a trailer. I went there for exchanges this weekend and I took stuff with me for them to take down. I found a green plastic tub just hanging around in the cubby of our apartment, so I packed it full of stuff I won't need this week. (I wasn't planning on putting in my journal, but I might have accidentally. I hope so, because now I can't find it. :( )[3] I don't think I'll end up bringing back my sheets. We have enough back home, I know, and the elastic from one set broke, and another missionary might want my skull pillowcase.[4] I'll probably bring down the blanket and pillow, though. I think I have less stuff leaving here than I did leaving the MTC, just because of all the stuff I've sent home, so hopefully the airport won't be a problem.

The Larsons are also taking down my bike. I hope there's not snow on the ground when I get home so I can bike around the neighborhood for therapy purposes.[5] The Larsons taking stuff down will be so much easier because I don't have to figure out how to take my bike apart, or how to put it together. I can do wheels, but I don't know about pedals and handlebars. The Larsons have family in the Foxboro development where it's flat ("Orchard Hills" my foot).[6] I told them we live on the hill, east of there. (My directions are a lot better on the mission than they were back home.) I put our address and phone number on the tote. I've been in Idaho so long at first I put 208 as the area code, so I had to scribble it out. I also put your cell phone. I hope it's still [redacted].

Right now at the library there is a baby crying. That often makes me sad but with my mood it makes me especially so. Whenever I got home from a youth conference or something like that I would be morose for a few days. Those were only things that lasted a few days. This has been two years! I'm going to be a great, big mess.[7] I don't care about dinner. I'd probably rather go to a sit down restaurant or have a homemade meal.[8]

We're at the dumb Lewiston library today, and today is not fully P-day because of Thanksgiving. I'm running out of time, but that's OK. 2 John 1:12[9]

Sadness, misery, and depression,

Elder Melville

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[1] Of course, I don’t think he was seriously offering me six months.

[2] This was the last email I sent on my mission, and I was super sad to come back. Sometimes I think back and get sad feelings when I think about how I felt and think about how long ago this was. Ten years!?? But when I was home for two years, I thought that was a long time; when I was home six months, I thought that was a long time.

[3] I did indeed put my journal in the tub, for some reason, so when I came home, I went back and filled in the dates from the last week and a half of my mission.

[4] I became notorious for the skull pillowcase I used. Sometimes I miss it, but I could probably buy another if I really wanted.

[5] By “therapy,” I meant “to make me less sad.”

[6] Around 2005, a city councilwoman wanted to rename North Salt Lake “Orchard Hills,” even though much of NSL is not on the hills.

[7] It took me about two years not to be sad that I was home, but the first few weeks were the worst.

[8] My mom wrote, “I hate to bring up a subject that you would like to ignore but I need to know if there is anything in particular that you would like for dinner next Monday.  We could cook something you love or go out somewhere that you want to go.  If you can bring yourself to let us know that would be nice.” They got Little Caesars for lunch that day, and then they made Hawaiian haystacks for dinner.

[9] “Having many things to write unto you, I would not write with paper and ink: but I trust to come unto you, and speak face to face, that our joy may be full.”

Two weeks until transfers (11/16/19)

Transfers are in two weeks. I wouldn't mind staying in Lewiston another transfer, as I wrote in a letter to President Palmer. But there are still other areas in the mission I haven't been to, so those would be fine.[1]

As for my bike, it is in good condition. In fact today I bought a new tube, before I read your email. Some members told us that last year a missionary went home and it only cost about $30 to send it home UPS (maybe it was FedEx), the box also being full of other things as well. I'm going to talk to some members about how to get it taken apart, but I've already acquired the box. I've come to enjoy biking and it will probably be my main transportation at BYU, although I'm not sure how much I can do of the North Salt Lake hills.[2] I'll have to take the pedals off, the handlebars off, and one wheel off. I hope I can put it back together when it gets home. The only disadvantage to my bike is that it doesn't have a kickstand, and I bought one that fits most bikes. My bike doesn't fit in the "most" category. You're making me second guess myself, but I don't think it'll be as bad as you think. There's a member here who supplies bikes for the new missionaries, and I've heard sending it home through him is $60. If the UPS thing is correct, you were ripped off! (Funny side note--once Elder W. was commenting about the strange name of one of the avenues in our area, on which the church is located. It is called Ripon. Like rip off, but with on instead of off. [That's how it's pronounced, too.]) Elder T. made a comment recently about how he doesn't want me even to take it apart until the Friday before I leave because biking is more effective than walking. This is true, but I'm disregarding his opinion because it's too risky to wait that long. I've learned that my easy-going nature often causes people to take advantage of me and boss me around.[3]

Thinking of my bike, I left it on our bike rack on our car, so I hope it's still there when we go back. Maybe I won't have to worry about it. (That would be horrible!)

Nothing too significant happened this week. I got to go on exchanges to Clarkston, WA, possibly for the last time. A less-active we visited there told me I looked exactly like someone else she knows. I will probably get that more now that I'm not as fat. (I feel terribly guilty about the cookies I ate this morning and haven't done the penalty push ups for yet.)[4]

Our recent converts Mallary B. and Katelyn H. are successfully befriending each other as new active members. We're having a lesson with them on Thursday night and it may be the last time I see Mallary, since she goes home for Thanksgiving. She hasn't told her parents she got baptized. She was scared to but now she's excited to.[5]

The other missionaries recently arrived to email, and said the members they live with are going down to Utah, and I may be able to send my bike down with them. It would be free then and therefore totally worth it. I don't know if it will happen yet for sure, but it may work out well, if it does.[6]

We have been concerned about yet another teenage girl in the branch, Kim C. We were teaching her and she wanted to be baptized but her mom wouldn't let her. She seemed to have fallen off the face of the earth but we're starting to teach her again. She was working on Sundays because Wal-Mart pays an extra dollar an hour on Sundays. But she told us last night she knows it's not worth putting eight dollars before God. She's been kicked out of her house because of her wicked stepmother. I don't know about the details of that, but that has happened.

Our Gospel Essentials teacher is frequently absent and we have to teach. Yesterday Elder T. went to talk in a youth class so I had to teach on my own. The lesson was on the law of chastity. Needless to say, the class participation was less than usual, but it wasn't too bad. Our ward mission leader nearly read "precaution" instead of "procreation" but he caught himself. We had three active married members in there, and a recently reactivated member who's living with his fiancée, and Kim and her member boyfriend (usually they come to the branch so I don't know why they came to the ward), who are about nineteen. But I think it was a little more comfortable than when I had to teach the same lesson in Ritzville, during which an excommunicated member spoke up, somewhat inadvertently discussing past transgressions when we got to the part about abortion.[7]

That's all for now!

Love,

Elder Melville

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[1] This was somewhat facetious, because I was going home. But I didn’t want to go home.

[2] I did take that bike to BYU, and then it got stolen, even though it was locked. Provo is not a secure place for bikes. I have zero sympathy for people who steal bikes. I hope bad things happen to them.

[3] I was astonished that Elder T. didn’t want me to send it home early. On another occasion, the teenage son of the family we lived with was going into our apartment and taking stuff, and Elder T. didn’t like me locking the door. I wish I had been more assertive to tell him he was moronically wrong. Not that forcefully, of course.

[4] At that time, if I ate something that was nonseasonal, I would have to do pushups as punishment. Now I just avoid nonseasonal things.

[5] After I came home, it sounded like things did not go well when she told her parents. Katelyn and Mallary were Facebook friends, and Katelyn often commented on Mallary’s statuses. Soon thereafter, Mallary unfriended Katelyn. I was surprised, and it kind of made me lose respect for Mallary.

[6] I did send my bike with them.

[7] We were teaching an excommunicated member who wanted to be rebaptized. One Sunday, she talked to the branch president, and she came into the Gospel Essentials class, excited about what he told her. He told her no drugs or alcohol, and eventually she could be baptized. The lesson was on chastity, and when we got to the part about abortion, she said, “I forgot to tell him about that. It wasn’t my fault; the government made me do it.” I think drugs had fried her brain a bit. Missions do teach you empathy for different kinds of people.