I've heard it said that the huge fence surrounding the Missionary Training Center in Provo, Utah is there not to keep missionaries in, but to keep mothers and grandmothers out. Having just looked at it up close yesterday, I can testify that it would indeed be a tough climb over, but I'm sure that hasn't stopped a mother or two from trying. No matter how you slice it, leaving one's precious child for two years is not easy for us moms.
The process for dropping young elders (oxymoron?) and sisters at the MTC has changed dramatically between the time we sent our first missionary and now. When we delivered Luke there in 2006, we were allowed to park our cars, gather his luggage, and with our entire family, enter the doors of the MTC right along with him. We were greeted by loving missionary couples, and I was given Luke's missionary name tag, "Elder Erichsen," which I got to pin on him. We then moved into the chapel, where we attended a brief meeting. The MTC president and his wife spoke, assuring us of their love for our kids and their promise to care for them just as we would during the time they are there. Lastly, we sang the familiar hymn "Called to Serve" and were admonished by the MTC president to "push back those tears and sing it like you mean it!" And we did. All too soon, the meeting ended, and after final hugs goodbye, new missionaries exited through one door, and families through another.
Yesterday was an entirely different experience. A few years ago (2009?), the Swine Flu hit our country hard, and church leaders decided that perhaps it wasn't wise to bring several hundred missionaries, along with their parents, grandparents, siblings, aunts, uncles, and cousins into the MTC every Wednesday to associate in close contact, creating the ideal environment to pass around harmful germs. So they instigated this curbside drop-off method instead. We all assumed that once the imminent threat of Swine Flu subsided, they would return to the former process, but they did not. I don't know for sure, but my guess is the new way was so much more efficient and less time consuming that they decided to make the change permanent.
I was sufficiently warned by my students at LDS Business College what to expect. Many of them are recently returned missionaries themselves. They told me to be sure to say all our goodbyes ahead of time before even driving onto the MTC campus. "Say everything you want to say, and do everything you want to do because once you get in there, elders will descend upon your car, remove your son's luggage, remove your son, and before you know it, you'll be left standing there on the curb alone. Yikes! Okay, calm down, Terrianne. You can do this. Other mothers do this.
It wasn't quite that bad. It was quick, yes, but it wasn't hurried. It was peaceful actually. As we drove through the front gates, we were greeted by many enthusiastic missionaries. "Welcome to the MTC!" they exclaimed. We were directed where to park next to the curb, and as we got out of the car, a young elder came up and shook Eli's hand, patted him on the back, and said "Welcome to the MTC, man!" Eli smiled as only Eli can and responded with equal enthusiasm. The elder asked Eli if he had any cell phones with him. Right answer: No. And if he had his immunization record. Right answer: Yes. At that point, this sweet young man stepped to the side, as though to give our family a bit of privacy.
By now, I could not hold back my tears. My friend Diane told me it was my calling as a mother to cry. I definitely fulfilled my calling. I hugged Eli as tight as I could and whispered to him how much I love him and that nothing he could do in the entire world could make me prouder than I was in that moment. He shook hands with his dad and sort of hugged (Gerald doesn't really hug), and said goodbye to both Isaiah and Seth. One final hug for me, and he was off, glowing with happiness, so excited to embark on this incredible opportunity to serve the Lord.
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