Missionary Mom

It always seems that Sundays are the hardest days to get through. Right now especially. Everything that is said and done reminds me of Tyler. I walk down the halls at church and see his picture hanging there and miss him terribly. Him going to college was hard but this mission thing is so much harder than I ever imagined. He has only been out 1/5 of the time. I hate not talking with him daily. It's hard when I see photos, when I come across his things and when I have to update his blog. I find myself reading his letters several time a week.
It surprises me really. I never thought of myself as one of "those" kind of moms. I was the kind of mom that would be like, "See you Son. Do well and be a good example of your family." But in actuality, I am one of "those" moms. I get teary when I think about him. I look forward with anticipation to getting his weekly letters and I can't wait to send him a package, knowing he is going to be excited to get something from home.
I don't know, maybe it's because we are so similar in the way we are. Our personalities are so close I know how he will react to things and I understand him better than just about anyone (I think).
I was watching home videos the other day and I fell in love with that little boy all over again. He had the sweetest little voice on the planet, and he could speak so well for a two year old. He had such a sweet nature about him.
By the time he was five, I would cry when he got off the bus, because he was such a little snot. He could push my buttons and hurt my feelings easier than anyone (and still can).
I think there is just something special between a  mother and a first child. Something about the experience of learning the roll of motherhood and figuring it out with that first child that bonds you to them. I feel like even though he is not here I spend a lot of my time thinking about him. Wondering what he's doing, how he's doing, where he's going. I have to make myself not think about him when all the kids are at school and the house is quiet. Sometimes I think he will be on the couch playing the guitar when I walk in. Or I turn on music he likes just so I can feel closer to him.
Although I miss the heck out of him, I know that he is doing what he needs to be doing. I know that he is gaining life experiences he would never get the opportunity to receive, if not for this mission. And I know that he will be a much better father, husband, brother, son and man for having gone and served the Lord. I am prouder of him, than I thought I ever could be. And although it hurts at times, I wouldn't have him be anywhere else in the World.