...but who's counting?

I am, that's who! Today marks six weeks until my little brother gets home from his two-year mission to Japan! Typically, when someone "has a missionary" or "is waiting for a missionary," that means they have a dating history and probably hope to get married when the mission's done. I know several people who have successfully waited for a missionary, and for a brief period I thought I would be waiting for one. In hindsight, I'm glad that didn't end up happening because I'm realizing I'm not a big fan of torture. Dating is tough, as I've been learning recently, but that's a story for another blog post (hopefully it doesn't take another year for me to write it...). Anyway, even though I'm not going to be dating my returned missionary, I'm insanely excited for him to get home.

It's been a pretty weird couple of years. You may recall that a little over two years ago, my older brother, Jesse, passed away due to a car accident. Just a few months after he left for that mission (which will last a lot longer than two years, I'll add), it was time for Isaac to leave on his, so despite the weekly e-mails he sends, I think it's felt a bit like I won't see either of them for a really long time. Family gatherings felt a lot emptier starting that year... but seriously, Isaac's coming back in 42 days!

I must apologize to my older brothers, all of whom served missions, as I was definitely not as excited for them to get back. To be fair, none of them ever declared me to be his best friend, and Isaac and I have been through a lot together. Of the six children in the family, we were the two still living at home when our parents divorced, we adopted a cat, our dog died, and other such hardships occurred. We were both out at school when the news of Jesse's accident arrived, and we made the painful trip home for the funeral together. When I was three and a half years old and Isaac was born, I appointed myself as his second mother, so yeah, we have a special bond. Everyone knows the mom gets to hug the missionary first at the airport, so obviously I get second dibs. I'm sure at some point he'll bring up the time when we were kids and I allegedly sat on his head, and I'll lovingly remind him that - although I have no memory of the incident - I'm sure he was asking for it.

While I suppose those who are waiting for their missionaries in a romantic sense may also be ecstatic at approaching homecomings, I will say from experience that dating does not always work out the way we hope it will. No matter what, though, Isaac and I will always be siblings - and hopefully best buddies, too.