We moved into our new house in July, 1991, I began teaching Junior High the next month, and I was called to be our ward Young Women's President the following winter. Life was going along, and things were looking good, aside from having no prospects of marriage.
I dated, on and off, but never found anyone I was interested in. Once in awhile I'd get excited when someone told me they had a cousin, a friend, or someone in their ward they wanted me to meet, but nothing ever came of it. We'd go out, have a nice time, but that would be it. I suppose I was still waiting for Garth to come back, but as the years passed so did that dream. He wasn't coming, I finally accepted, and to tell you the truth, I was kind of relieved. How would I handle it if he came back? Actually, I was kind of put out with Garth, he really had kind of messed me up. On the other hand, I suppose I was also grateful to him. Because he stole my heart and kept it, I didn't fall into the trap many other single women did of falling for the first guy they met, marrying quickly, and then realizing they shouldn't have settled so soon.
While being single was lonely, tiring, and economically challenging, it also gave me a chance to find out who I was; to address, deal with, and get past issues I had left over from my divorce; and to learn how to be happy all by myself (with my kids of course.)
In the meantime, Mom and dad began talking about serving a couple mission. The thought of them leaving scared me, but I knew they really wanted to go. Since all of their children were married, the only thing holding them back was me. Mom took care of my kids while I taught school, but now Stephen was in half day kindergarten, and next fall he would start first grade. Really, I only needed someone to get the kids off to school, since I had to leave a few minutes earlier than them, and then to watch them after school until I got home. My little sister, Sharon, lived with mom and dad on their side of the house while her husband, Colton, went full time to college. She agree to help us out while mom and dad were gone, so everything was in order.
Mom and Dad volunteered for missionary service in the spring of 1992, and they were called to serve in Germany for 18 months! Somehow, none of us had anticipated them going so far away, but there was so much for them to do to get ready, buying warm enough clothes, getting the house and their finances in order, and everything else involved in leaving for a year and a half that we really didn't have time to be sad until they left. Then we cried.
I knew it was the right thing for them to do, and that we would be blessed for letting them go, but it was so hard! When we went to the airport to see them off it felt like someone was dying. Maybe we were only saying goodby for 18 months; maybe we could write letters and talk on the phone: saying goodby was still was one of the hardest things I ever did.
I drove the kids home that afternoon feeling worse than when I got divorced or had to say goodby to Garth. This grieving business was for the birds! Still, one lesson I'd learned was that life goes on, whether you want it to or not, and ours would be the same. The first few days were difficult, but soon we were back in our normal routine of cleaning house, going to school, making breakfast and dinner and wishing that weekends lasted longer. Now, though, we were also writing letters and reading the ones mom and dad sent us from the mission field, wondering what changes would take place before we were reunited again? Maybe, just maybe, one of the blessings of letting my parents go would be that I would finally find the right person to marry.
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