Caroline's Call. Part 1.

Waiting for a mission call is just plain nerve wracking. No ifs, ands, or buts about it.

These days, however, with the efficiency of online applications it can happen relatively quickly. Ten days for Caroline. Ten days from the time Kenneth pushed "send" until she received her call. That really is a quick turn around time when you think about it, especially compared to the days when it could take weeks -even months to get a call.

Because Stake Presidents have access to the missionary website, we could see that under Caroline's name it said "assignment made" - it didn't say where, but we knew the big white envelope was most likely on its way.

The problem???

Caroline was in Rexburg and the call was being sent to Lehi. It wasn't necessarily a problem, really, but we all wanted to be together - if possible - when she opened it.

So we waited for Wednesday. The day the calls are delivered in Utah thanks to the amazing efficiency of the Church and the U.S. Postal System.

We had a plan.

If the call came on Wednesday, December 17, like we hoped it would, then Kenneth and I and Margaret and Scott would hop in the car and drive up to Rexburg. It was finals week. Caroline couldn't come home until Friday and I don't think any of us could have waited until then anyway. We aren't the most patient people when it comes to things like that! 

So we waited for the mail lady to decide our fate.

Our mail is usually delivered by noon. I was trying to keep busy, so I decided to run a few errands. It was much better than looking out the window every 5 seconds!

Caroline called a few times. I called her a few times. I was so anxious for the mail to come. Caroline was DYING! Hahaha.

I decided to go back home around 10:45 and as I was driving home I could see the mail truck down the street by the Dixons home. 

I calmly drove home, but boy, did I ever want to go plead and beg and cry with the mail lady to just give me my mail right then and there! However, I also figured it is probably against the law to ambush a mail truck so I resisted. 

I called Caroline. The mail truck was in the neighborhood! I called Lauren. The mail truck was in the neighborhood! I called Kenneth. The mail truck was in the neighborhood! Yes, I am a bit cray cray.

I checked the mail box just to make sure the mail lady hadn't all of a sudden decided, after 20 years, to reverse her route and do our side of the street before she did the other side. She didn't. The box was empty.

So here was my dilemma. 

How could I know if the mail arrived without me sitting and staring out the front window or running out to check the mailbox every other minute or so? 

And then it hit me. 

I would send the grandkids a little note telling them I loved them. It would be fun for them to get some mail, AND that way I could put their letter out to be picked up and raise the red flag. Then if the flag had been put down when I looked out the window from then on I would know the mail had come.

See, I told you I was a bit crazy.

I kept checking out the window. The flag was still up, but within about a half hour, I heard the truck next door. I ran to the window and there she was. Driving past our house straight to our mailbox just like she does every day. I opened the door and decided not to run out there and scare her half to death, so instead I took her picture and waited for her to drive on.

Oh happy day! The mail had come!