So 2 years ago Kent left from the Vernal, Utah airport to travel across the pond and enter the MTC in Preston, England. Talk about anti-climactic (spelling?). He just went through the little gate and boarded the plane and he was off. That was kind of it. We didn't even get to take him to a goodbye breakfast or anything (his flight left at 5:00 am so it was a bit early for anything to be open...).
Continuing on....the two years went by pretty quickly. There were some good times (when he and his companion had something like 10+ investigators at church) and some bad times (everytime he saw an English person's nasty teeth a.k.a. every day) and some downright wierd times (when their cute little Chinese investigator confessed her love to Kent-she was golden. Just not as far as the church was concerned!) and pretty soon, all the times were gone and he was headed home. He was able to fly into the Salt Lake International Airport and actually get home faster, so we decided we would go out there to pick him up. We left pretty early on Wednesday the 5th of May and stopped in Provo to do a little shopping. While we were there, we got to say good-bye to our cousin Nate before he was dropped off to enter the Provo, Utah MTC. He will be serving in Texas.
Moving on.
We traveled up to Salt Lake and got to the airport with plenty of time. Everyone in my car wanted to be let out at the international terminal so I pulled over to the curb and booted them out. I then pulled around to find a parking place. This is where everything started to go wrong. I pulled around the little parking area and pulled in at the sign that said, “Parking/Rental Return”. Turns out it should have just said “Rental Return” because there isn’t any parking. So I had to find my way out of that. Just then, my dad calls me to ask where I am. He tells me that I’m going to miss Kent coming through the gate.
“He just touched down and he is going to be here in 15 minutes!” says dad.
“I can’t find how to get to the parking garage!” I cry.
“It is just that big tall covered parking place!” He responds.
“I know WHAT it is! I just can’t find the way to GET THERE!” I counter-respond.
I think I then mumbled something and hung up. Sometimes, talking to my dad and trying to do something at the same time just don’t mix. He isn’t a very calm reassuring person (quite the opposite-frantically worried is his personality.) and I could only focus on 1 crisis at a time. So by this time I have literally driven around the parking garage/rental return about 3 times. It has been 15 minutes from the time dad said that Kent would be here and I am having a meltdown. I am thinking things like, “Why in the crap did they send the only person that hasn’t been to the airport to park the car?” “Why has everyone abandoned me?!” and “I hate this airport!” So I’m getting more and more frustrated when suddenly these 2 parking attendants stop me. Luckily they spoke English (I stopped to ask 3 people how to get to the parking garage and none of them spoke English. It was ridiculous.) and were able to kind of direct me to the parking garage. Turns out there are 2 signs for the parking garage. You have to pass the first one by and then take the 2nd turn. Weird eh? Just then, I get a call on my phone from Benson. I don’t really want to talk to anyone right now (cuz I am crying at this point.) but I picked up. He started by asking me if I was alright and if I needed help. He then told me that I had plenty of time and we were not in a rush (keep in mind I am figuring that Kent has already come out by now.) and he can come park the car for me. I was already in the parking garage at this point so he ran across the road and found me so that I would have someone to show me where the terminal was. Thank heavens for brothers!
And that is about it. We only had one more crisis involving my mother and her phone and me needing to run all the way back to the car to get it. Turns out, if they leave their phone in your car, it is your responsibility to gather everything up and bring it to the terminal while they just relax and wait….!
Anyway. We survived. Oh-ps. We still had to wait almost 45 minutes while Kent got off the plane and through customs and everything. Thank you Dad for that little bit of added stress in my day.
And now Kent is home! There were 18 missionaries coming home that day and it was funny to wait there with all the families and getting excited every time you could see a suit coming out of the door. But he finally did and we were so excited! Hugs and kisses all around!
P.S. I think he looks skinnier and taller than when he left. So we measured. He isn’t taller at all. Weird.
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