Last week, on Thursday, March 3 my long lost little brother returned from his two year mission in Lithuania. It was a pretty nerve wracking week - I had some stress induced stomach problems; Wyatt had double ear infections and missed two days of school; Elliott had some sort of virus with a 101.4 degree fever. Inspite of all our personal challenges though, that kid still came home.
And it was glorious.
Seeing him. Giving him a hug. Reintroducing him to the kids. Pretty cool.
Two years is such a long time. I realize that in the grand scheme of life, two years is a very small percentage, but it was worth it. My brother is so tall and handsome and smart and grown-up. He is of course, the same goofy dorky kid we all love, but he is so much more than that, too.
Yesterday, Quinn and I got to spend a couple hours in the afternoon with Uncle Willie. As soon as he came in our house, he went straight to the fridge and the pantry - just like always. He wandered around our house, upstairs and into the basement. He smiled and giggled and tried to talk to Quinn.
We went to Deseret Book. The woman helping him thought I was his mom. He's home, I guess. Everyone thinks I'm his mom.
We went to lunch at Cubby's and I answered all his questions about family and America and food trucks. He likes food trucks - well, he likes kebab stands, so pretty much the same thing.
Then, we went to Target, and he pushed Captain Quinn around in the cart and we looked at all the toys.
We came back to my house, and he read books to his former best friend, who is starting to warm up to the whole idea of Uncle Willie. He went with me to get the big boys from school, checked out the pantry one more time when we got back, and then he headed home.
He is a good boy and one of my best friends. I am so happy he is home.