The Changes to Expect as a Return Missionary

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The start of this year I was just finishing up the final months of my mission in Oregon. I was torn to leave, but excited to be with my family again and resume my normal life. However, life was far from normal when I returned home. I now know that the movie “The RM” is a true story because it seemed as if I was re-watching it, but only through the eyes of my life.

I insisted that my parents use my room in my absence, but they practically took an oath to defend it from any intruders (Siblings). I was rather pleased to hear of their dedication in protecting my things although I refused to let on that I cared. However, when I arrived home my room had been confiscated by my older sister who had moved back home briefly. All my stuff was removed from my room and cluttered recklessly about in the attic. The worst part was my welcome home confinement to the living room floor. I could not but help to shed a pathetic tear of frustration the first night I was home.

I quickly got use to the floor, but I could never get use to the sleepless nights. The blame was placed entirely on the new addition to the family, three baby puppies that yapped all night. They occupied the room next to mine and they made their presence known. I’d normally go to bed around 1 am which is when they would normally wake up and want to play. Needless to say, we got to know each other really well.

I couldn’t completely understand why we had the three adorable, far from innocent, additional dogs in our family. When I left we had two dogs, but when I returned our house was bombarded by a total of seven dogs, most of which came with my sister’s return. Before I left my brother’s two iguanas could comfortably sit in the palm of your hand, but when I returned they measured close to five feet in length. My brother also brought home a tarantula that my parents still try relentlessly and discretely to kill. Although my dad had grown use to the multiple pets that found their way to our home, he referred to our house as a barn.

Lastly, where were all my previous high school friends? I had been abandoned by all my friends due to their own obligations and future outlook from their own college pursuits. Only my best friend remained to welcome me home on the first day of my arrival. However, after that he seemed to be preoccupied elsewhere because I rarely saw him. It was an odd transition from meeting with strangers and friends daily in the mission field to only hanging out with family.

Overall, a lot can change in two years and coming back to it can be just as startling, but exciting. Indeed I lost my room, indeed I lost my friends, and most importantly I lost desired sleep. Yet, my experience from my mission and the eventful return are forever locked into my memory and I would not trade it for the world.