Hermana Heywood

Kaitlynn in the Chile Puerto Montt Mission

Casual Call with You (Coyhaique), March 2, 2026

March 2, 2026 · Coyhaique / Herriman

A short call - maybe fifteen minutes. You were in Coyhaique, and you opened heavy: you didn't feel like the kind of leader you thought you were supposed to be. The call loosened from there into dead-rabbit jokes, a dance-in-the-rain callback to your email, and the sugar-vs-salt barbecue story from earlier that day.

Your Opening - "I'm Just a Side Character"

You came on and vented right away. You said you didn't have all the answers and felt like you were supposed to be a fun leader, "the cool captain." You said you weren't - you were "just a side character."

Mom went first: "Maybe your expectation of trying to be the cool aunt is making things harder than it needs to be."

What I Said About Vulnerability and Asking Questions

I told you: "I respect leaders that are vulnerable, and that will admit when they don't know what the exact answer is. And as a leader, it's not your job to know the answer to every single question."

Mom added that real people who are just doing their best are a good example.

You pushed back on your own self-description: "You're not boring." Mom asked what your definition of boring even was. You answered with a riff about Jesus being "the greatest entertainer ever" - because he engaged with whoever was in front of him, a hobo on the side of the street, a random woman he healed.

Mom: "So it sounds like you're paying your value just in that and not in where it really should be."

You: "Maybe that is what I am doing. Maybe I'm looking at it wrong."

Then I laid it out, captured close to verbatim because I wanted you to have it later:

"A lot of times people know what they have to do, and it's just helping them reach the decision they already know they have to make. So as a leader, it's like, how can I ask questions to help people think about how they can solve their problem? Like, 'I am having a hard time with my companion' - rather than saying, 'Well, do this, this, and this,' you could say, 'Well, that sounds really hard. What are some things you think you could do to help your relationship?' You're working with the spirit, the spirit's working with them to help them figure out their problem.

If they don't want an answer to their problem, then you just saved yourself a lot of conversation. And if all they want to do is talk about how hard it is being a missionary - but they're doing so by saying, 'I am having a hard time with my companion' - then you are still being a leader because you are just listening. And I think a lot of ways, that's how Heavenly Father leads our lives. He just listens. And He just lets us know He loves us.

You don't have to have the answer to everything. You don't have to be the entertainer. Just be you, and that's enough."

Mom: "You are enough." Me: "You are enough. Yeah."

Dead-Rabbit Pictures

I told you I'd send you pictures of dead rabbits some coyote ate on the trail.

You said that when you had been in your deepest darkest moment, the dead-rabbit picture I'd sent had been the only thing that kept you going.

Mom joined in: "That's how I felt last night when he woke me up from my nap and I was like, 'Wow, this dead rabbit. Thank you.'" I added that I'd taken a picture of a dead rabbit and shown it to people, telling them it had made my life look better than I'd thought.

Connection Froze - Mom Got a Screenshot

The call froze briefly. Mom told you she'd taken a screenshot of your frozen face. You thanked her.

"Give Yourself Some Grace"

Mom went into it close to verbatim: "Give yourself some grace, Kaitlynn. You don't have to take everything perfectly in stride." And then: "You are going up an emotional hill, and that takes emotional strength. And the only way you get to be strong at something is through exercising that thing. So, do you have a choice - do I get up and do my best? And by the way, that's all that's ever required of you. Or do I just sit down on the hill until my mission's mostly done?"

You objected to the framing: "I don't know why you guys think that I'm so hard on myself. That was something that really confused me the other week when you told me that. I was like, 'That is not the truth.' I am not hard enough on myself."

Mom: "That's so the truth. Are you realizing the folly of your conclusion?"

You admitted you didn't know what "folly" meant. You'd thought it was just part of the song - "folly, lolly, la la la la la… you've got a reason to be jolly for a while now, number rocks!"

How Much Time You Have Left

You counted out the months yourself: March, April, May, June, July, August. You'd be home in August - about five months and a week. Mom: "You're coming home so soon."

"Dance in the Rain"

Mom: "Learn how to dance in the rain."

You said you were bad at dancing and would probably trip if you tried. You said the tripping bit had actually been in your weekly email. Mom confirmed: the email had been about learning to dance in the rain.

You were annoyed the AI photo for "dancing in the rain" hadn't generated when you put your email together; all the other AI photos generated, but that one didn't.

The Dog Bite and Regret About Training Hermana Juncker

You ran into the dog bite (separate event): when the dog had bit your palm, you had been trying not to laugh because it was a stupid situation, but Hermana Juncker hadn't been in the mood. You turned the laugh off because Juncker had been mad and didn't want to talk for a long time.

That memory triggered a wider regret. You said you regretted how you'd acted in quarantine with Juncker - felt you could have trained her better. You caught yourself: nothing to do about it now, no point beating yourself up over it. You said if you trained again - though you didn't think you would - you'd do things differently.

Mom: "That's all you can do, is just learn from it." You: "Done!"

The Sugar-vs-Salt Barbecue Story

You pivoted to a story from earlier that day. The elders had come over for a barbecue and brought the meat they had just bought. Hermana Juncker had started stressing and announced she was going to prepare all the meat right then. You told her to chill, you were taking care of it.

You started preparing the meat: Juncker had a little jar of "salt stuff" she was throwing on, and you were rubbing the meat back and forth and rubbing it in mustard. One of the elders came in to start his salad, looked at the jar, and asked Juncker if she was sure that was salt - had she tasted it? Juncker said yes, she thought she had.

The elder tasted it. It was sugar. You had put sugar on every single piece of meat. Sugar rub instead of salt rub. You had to wash all the meat and start over with salt - but then put too much salt.

You: "The best part is that I knew it was too much salt. But he told me to put it on. I was just like, whatever, it's fine."

The AI Photo

You pulled up an AI-generated photo (the dancing-in-the-rain one, presumably): "Oh look, it's me dancing in the rain." You read off the gibberish name the generator had stitched together. Mom said she always thought it was funny when the generator tried to make up words.

You: "I don't know what I want to be when I grow up. Is this going to be it?"

Closing

You said you should probably go be helpful. Mom closed: "I hope you have a fun day. Love you, Kaitlynn - chin up, be happy."

You: "I love you guys! I love you! Bye-bye."

Cleanup Notes