So my little sister Lissa left two weeks ago to serve an LDS mission in the Philippines. She’ll be gone for a year and a half. My mom forwarded me Lissa’s second email today, updating us on Lissa’s language learning (TAGALOG!?!?!?!?!) and transformations. I totally miss her.
But the thing is. When my mom forwarded me Lissa’s email, the email SHE sent Lissa was attached at the bottom. So I read it because I’m mischievous.
So, how was your week? I am assuming you are now fluent in Tagalog? Do you remember how to speak English? Starting tomorrow I will greet everyone I meet with “Magandag Arow.” It will be my way of being part of your world.
[ . . . ]
You are my sweet Lissa and I think about you all the time at different times of your life. Lately I have been thinking of you when you were in kindergarten and we were such good friends. Everything was fun and exciting to you. You were curious and interested in everything. If you were to look in the dictionary under “sweetness” it would have said Lissa. I looked up sweetness today and it said “Sister Lissa Brock.” Strangely I looked up courageous, strong, faithful and capable and they all said, “Sweet Lissa also known as Sister Lissa Brock serving a mission for the Lord.”
Lissa, “shall we not go on in so great a cause?”
Cant wait to hear from you.
I love you, Lissa.
I emailed my mom: BTW, you’re a really good mom.
Now, I know you’re all thinking, how come you turned out the way you did with a mom like that? I know. Any good I am is because of her. Any bad I am is because . . . I BLAME RYAN!
The good news is this morning I woke up wanting to cry because apparently overnight, I fell in love with my baby. Yeah, my 11 inch, 1 pound, cartwheeling baby alligator. (There’s this picture of her spine that makes her look like an alligator. Let’s hope she doesn’t actually look like one. If she does . . . I BLAME RYAN!)
Let it be known: this has not always been the case. I barfed every day for two months until one time, I swear my throat almost ripped open. We were enemies for a while. And I still refuse to read out loud to her. I mean, it’s not like she can understand books.
But this morning, you guys.
She might have murdered my libido and hijacked my esophagus, but I’m starting to like her. Like really, really, do-anything-in-the-entire-world-for-her-with-very-few-exceptions like her.