The car rolls to a stop right outside of the Missionary Training Center. I take a long glance around at my four siblings and my parents and realization sets in. I am about to be separated from them for two long years. The time seems like an eternity from where I am standing. I open the car door and stumble out of the car. My family steps out. With the cool autumn air billowing against me I grab my luggage and take a last look at my family. Tears start to roll down my cheeks as I say goodbye to each one of them. First Braydon, then Shalayne, Rylan, and last Shalyssa. I hug my parents. Both of them smile and tell me that they love me. I smile and tell them through choked sobs that I love them also.
I turn and don’t look back. I can hear them all clamber back into our small car and start to drive off. In a way, I feel more alone than at any other time in my life. I let the tears fall freely from my cheeks.
The first building I enter I see some people seated at desks. They look like the welcoming committee. One of the people, a short red headed lady, asks for my name. I tell her and she reaches for an envelope sitting right below the desk. As she lifts it up I can see a nametag with my name on it. As I slowly run my fingers over the tag I realize that this little tag represents everything that I will stand for over the next two years and, in a way, for the rest of my life.
Over my mission that tag became a part of me. It became who I was. Who I am. Every time I hold that tag I realize that I would not be who I am today if I had not made the decision to serve a two year mission. I do not regret it one bit.
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