My brain suffers a terrible fog-like state when I send a missionary off. You can see the tears in my eyes when we took this picture. The first two days are the worst. Then there is the cleaning the room of the departing missionary trauma that occurs when everything is cleaned up and the beds are made again and there is a terrible empty feeling that settles in. Then there is the first Sunday back at church when you see their missionary plaque hanging in the hallway and it is just a reminder of the departure and the length of the two year commitment that pours salt in the gaping wound of your heart.
I am happy to say that we are better now. Jim has been fine all along. It's the mother part of me that has a terrible time with those goodbyes but I think I will be OK from here on out. We do miss him though but he'll be a wonderful missionary and it is a blessing and privilege to have another missionary serving.