Clichés.

Woa.  A whirlwind of life the last month.  Douglas has been in the MTC for 25 days.  I can assure you that all of the missionary-mom clichés apply, so feel free to shout them out or pencil them in.  People kept telling me that the first week was going to be hard, but without having experienced it before I obviously didn't know what to expect really.  It took a good 10 days after the first week had passed before I could explain what that first week was like.   I had to keep reminding my sub-conscious that he hadn't died.   If the sub-conscious is the gut of the brain - that was my brain's gut reaction - he'd died.  Little things would trigger the thought process; his sock on the bathroom floor, accidentally calling David - Douglas, packing his last few shirts, finding his boots in the trunk of my car, coming home to an empty house for lunch, talking to the bank about his account, Jessica wearing his hat, and of course his uninhabited bedroom. It was a collection of heart sinking sorrow moments, combined with jubilation at the immediate reminder that the gut reaction was wrong and this boy was coming home to us - eventually. Sympathy for friends who have lost children or loved ones was overwhelming during that week and I prayed so fervently for dear ones.
I testify that my favorite cliché from the last month is that hearing from said missionary is like oxygen for the heart and soul.  It's true!  No wait.  Maybe it's that the missionary is having such an incredible time learning about their purpose in the MTC that they don't show any signs of missing their family.  Oh, but - there's also the one about feeling closer as a family and unified and all of that hoop-lah.   There is a lack of original thought or experience implied in clichés, but when it has not been a truism in your own life clichés are total game changers.  We are changed.  Life is better.  It tastes so good.