Dear Goob,
You probably won't actually read this
because you leave on your mission today, but I just want you to know
that I'm so proud that you've decided to serve the people of
Rancagua, Chile for two years. I'll miss late nights watching
cartoons and talking about things we'll do to cure our boredom
(transplanting all the weeds from our yard to our neighbor's was my
personal favorite). I'll miss your guitar playing and laughing until
you cry and general silliness and maybe even you drumming your
fingers at the dinner table. Also I'm kind of convinced that you may
or may not have gotten the wrong mission call because I personally
think you would speak French amazingly (Would you like a . . .
CROISSANT?? That's c*insert-gross-hocking-up-phlegm-sound-here*SAAAAHHH??*now-insert-wide-eyes-and-eyebrow-raise*
for those of you who don't know). However, your Spanish will
probably be nearly as good by the time you get home. I promise to
email weekly(ish) and send you Scooby Snacks at least once, since I'm
pretty sure they don't have those in Chile.
In all seriousness, I
admire your kindness and your concern for other people. You have
always been the guy who will be friends with anyone and who goes out
of his way to make everyone feel accepted and included. You are an
amazing brother to all of your sisters and so patient with all the
estrogen in our house. And most importantly, I am consistently
amazed by your spirit and your testimony. You are more sure about
what you believe now, at 19 years old, than many people will ever be.
I know that you'll be an amazing missionary and you'll change lives.
I'm sorry that I couldn't be there for your farewell or your setting
apart, but I wanted to more than anything. I love you and I'll miss
you so much.
¡Buena suerte!
See you in two, little brother.
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