Happppppy Mothers Day.

Aaahhhhhh.
My appreciation for Mothers day is 10 million times what it used to be now that I have a missionary out.

Sadly we couldn't hear from Joshy because there aren't enough phones in the Brazil MTC to have all the missionaries call.. mom wasn't very happy with that one.

But, I got to hear from my man.

I'm not going to try to explain it to you because there just aren't enough words in the English language to describe how that felt. To hear his voice.. and to hear his laugh. Ahh. Perfection.

It was just like it used to be. Staying up late and talking about everything and nothing at the same time. Getting in those stupid "i love you more" fights that I missed way more than I thought.
Making fun of him when his voice cracked, and him making fun of me when I was a little too sarcastic.
Filling him in on all the drama. Hearing stories about Indiana.

It was amazing. But it made me miss him.

Oh well.. Christmas will come soon enough, right? :/.

Sincerely,
A girl waiting for 21 more months to be with her best friend. Forever.

I'm a poet. and I kinda know it.

Guys, I decided something.

Something that has the potential to be kind of awesome.

Im going to write a book.

Finally.

I have so many notebooks full of ideas, and so many 'beginnings' of books that I didn't have the passion to finish.. but I think I have a good subject now.

Missionaries.





*Resounding applause*

Wooooo!

Basically I'm a pro.

Missionaries are a strange thing.
sending off one missionary - especially when its your boyfriend- is strange. and hard.
sending off another missionary - that being your brother- is strange. but a different kind of hard.

I got asked a lot of questions today.
"Was it harder sending off your brother, or your boyfriend?"
and I answered them all the same.
"you can't compare the two. Its completely different."

Sending off your boyfriend.

Sending off the other half of you. The boy who knows something's wrong even if you have a smile on your face. The boy who you're always holding hands with, or always having those stupid but awesome 'I love you more' fights. The boy who took you to dinner, and movies. The boy who was totally fine with snuggling on the couch, talking about life for hours. The boy who you were in love with. The boy who's in love with you.The boy who completes you.

Sending off your brother.

The boy who's been there from the beginning. The boy who had 5 million baseball  games every summer, but you went to all of them. The boy who's room you'd go into at night because you had a bad dream, or you were scared.
The boy who made you cry when he left for college.
The boy who's last words to you were "I love you, Sam." and you cried as you said it back, and straightened out his name tag at the bottom of the escalator.
The boy who you watched walk through security, wanting more than anything to run to him and hug him one last time. The brother who is the strongest man you've ever met.
The boy who made you who you are.


You see? Its completely different. I'd like to say that I'm decently acquainted with sending off missionaries in both of those aspects now. Which sucks in a million ways, but rocks in just as many other ways.

Two years is a long time.
Especially when two of the most important men in your life are gone.

All I can say right now, is 2014 is going to be the most amazing year.. ever.

Im back.

So.. once upon a time I remembered that I had a blog.. haha shoot.

Anyways, apart from the awkward silence that I know you're feeling right now, I decided to blog because tonight, at 9:00, I wrote a paper. A 3 page paper, actually.
It was for my AP English Language class. A reflection paper.

I sat down at the computer and all of a sudden, 20 minutes later, 3 full pages were on the screen in front of me. I'm definitely a believer in writing about something you're passionate about.

Want to see? Here.
Its awesome.

Sammi Scoresby A2

Reflection paper

Change and I Aren't Very Good Friends.

I've never really liked change. It scares me, actually. The entire concept of it wigs me out, so I try my best not to dwell on it too often.

Unfortunately, change has been present in my life ever since I can remember. I get the feeling that it stalks me sometimes. Whether it followed me through Elementary School, and took my little brother and sister from the earth before I even had time to say goodbye, or showed hints of itself in different hughes in the leaves of fall, or the first snowflake of a coming winter storm, change has been the one constant thing in my life. I have yet to find out why.

If I've noticed anything about change in all of my years, its that change has a funny way of working things out. It wasn't until I turned 16 that I noticed just how much change altered my paradigm of life so dramatically.

At 16 you're supposed to be careless. Living life, free of the stresses of paying for college, worrying about your future, or where you'll be 5 years from now. You're not supposed to think about who you end up with in the end of it all, or even if you'd be married at all. Normal teenagers didn't worry about that kind of stuff.

But I did.

I guess you could say I've always had sort of low self esteem. I couldn't tell you exact reasons why, but I just have. As years went by, I developed an emotional mask. I put up walls, and didn't let very many people inside of my boundaries. I never really opened up to anyone. I was calm and guarded on the front, but I was screaming inside.

It was the beginning of second semester my sophomore year. I was in a class called MAGIC, (Making a Great Individual Contribution. Spiffy, eh?) and it was one of my few electives. I had buried myself in honors classes, trying to get ahead. I must admit, I never really took MAGIC seriously. It was one of those classes where you could show up, sit in a desk, and get an A. Most of the time that's what I did. I showed up, and sat.

It was during one of my 'show up and sit' sessions that I can say with all honesty, my entire life changed. My head was on my desk, my train of thought slowly de-railing itself, when someone sat in the seat in front of me. At first I was kind of appalled. I sat in the back corner of the class, away from all the clicks and cliché groups of girls with blonde hair and long black eyelashes. I distanced myself from them. On purpose. Why was this person sitting right in front of me? Then I looked up at him. He was wearing navy blue sweats, a white shirt with a black backpack slung across his shoulder. He didn't even look at me. He just sat down, pulled out an ipad, and began reading something on the bright screen. I looked over his shoulder, and noticed that he was reading out of the Book of Mormon, 1^st Nephi to be exact. I don't know what it was, but something told me I needed to get to know this boy.

I'll save you the long version, but long story short, I got to know him. And with time, he became my best friend. Daniel knew everything about me. He knew that the rain makes me sad, and that I like to drive fast when there's no one on the road. He knew that Olive Garden is my favorite restaurant, and that sometimes I get mad for no reason. He took the time to knock down all my walls. He helped me realize that you don't have to hide everything; its okay to cry sometimes. He changed me. And I was okay with it.

As time went on, the closer we got. But there was still that ever-present sense of change haunting me. This time was different, though. I knew when the change was coming, and how my life was going to change.

Daniel was going to serve a mission for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. He was going to leave for 2 years. He was going to leave Highland, Utah, and his family. But the only thing in my mind that seemed to eat at me every day, was that he was leaving me. I wasn't ready. I wasn't. Nothing could make me ready for that! To have my best friend gone from my life for 730 days? No. No way. I couldn't let it happen. I wouldn't.

No matter how many times I told myself that, my conscience over powered me immediately. I knew he had to go. It was the right thing for both of us, and he needed to go. I just didn't want to have to deal with the aftermath.

As the day rapidly approached for his departure, I was staring down changes' throat. I could feel it breathing down my neck, and I could see its shadow following me. I tried so hard to over look it, to have it merge into the blind spot of my brain, but I couldn't. No matter how hard I tried, I just couldn't.

The day finally came. And I was a wreck.

“It's only for 2 years, sweetheart.” he said as we were standing on my front porch.

“Ha. Only 2 years.” I said through my tears.

He didn't say anything after that. He hugged me for a while, and then we both knew he had to go. I looked at him for a fleeting moment, and he took my face in his hands and said “I love you, Samantha Kay Scoresby. I'll see you soon.”

And with that, he left.

I could tell you right now, that change was definitely the hardest. Life has been different without him, but I have a new sense of direction now that he's gone. I get letters every other day. I get e-mails every Monday and sometimes I'm lucky enough to get pictures in the mail. It's different. Its hard. But it's worth it. I know what he's doing is the right thing for both of us. I know that 2 years is a long time to wait, but that boy in the navy blue sweats with the ipad shifted something inside of me. He changed the way I see life, and the way I see myself. No amount of time could ever alter that, and so to me, no matter what anyone's opinion is of my situation, and no matter how lonely I get sometimes, I know it's going to be okay. Because he'll be home soon, and after all, in the grand scheme of things, how long is 2 years really?

Change and I have never been best friends. But change helped me find my best friend, so I guess I can tolerate it now.