Hermana Heywood

Kaitlynn in the Chile Puerto Montt Mission

Evening Call with You (Punta Arenas), June 22, 2026

June 22, 2026 · Punta Arenas (Kaitlynn); home in Herriman

We talked again that evening, about 42 minutes, after you had flown into Punta Arenas for your HLV exchange. Mom, Alexa, and I were all home; your companion was with you on camera. Most of it was banter, jokes, and Spanish wordplay.

Arrival in Punta Arenas and the weekly email that finally sent

You said you were back in Punta Arenas and that it was crazy. Your flight was good, nothing special, and you apologized for a pause while you deleted an old email address off your account. You told me you had sent your weekly email, and I said I was very proud of you. You said you had been trying to send it for the last seven hours because it would not go through; you had written it a while ago but it just was not working. I said I wished they would give you at least a Chromebook, since writing emails on a tiny phone must be so hard. You said at least you do not have to write handwritten letters.

My work day and the demo-meeting volunteer problem

I said my day was good but busy, with meetings and back-and-forth and my responsibilities. I told you I cannot get anyone to volunteer to represent the team at a demo meeting, that they are a bunch of "introverted llamas" and so am I, but I am forced to present because of my job. I admitted I never volunteer when Dave (a colleague at work) asks, and figured maybe I just need to directly invite someone to do it.

Thursday's half day off and Mom's family reunion

You asked whether I was taking only half a day off Thursday or the whole day. I said half, the second half, because that is when we are driving. I explained the day off is for Mom's Gardner family reunion, held rarely, down in Hurricane / southern Utah. You teased me, confused, that I had to take a day off work to go to a "work reunion" before I clarified it was Mom's family. I noticed a Christmas stocking by your door that said "mana," and you confirmed it.

The house you stayed in for six weeks

I asked whether this was the apartment you were in when you first arrived in Punta Arenas. You said it is not your apartment but the house you lived in for six weeks early on because you did not have one: your assigned apartment had no finished floors and was too run-down, so the mission made you move out, and you slept in this house for six weeks while the floor was finished.

Carlos and Victoria

I asked whether Carlos and Victoria were the ones who did the floor. You corrected me: they are the branch-president / stake-presidency family in Coyhaique whose home the missionaries went to all the time for dinner, and you said I love them and they love me. I said I wished I had a memory like Mom's. You told me to just not forget that I love you; I said I never will.

The Turkey hair-transplant joke

We kept a running joke going about me getting a hair transplant in Turkey: that I would schedule the appointment, need two surgeries (front and crown), and have the graft "harvested" from bone, which you called gross. I concluded I might as well just shave my head every day.

Praise for your email, and the cheeseburger meme

Mom told you she really liked your email and that you did a great job, that she is proud of you, and thanked you for writing it and "for being wise." There was a garbled bit about an apology letter for breaking "the rules." Then you and I ran an extended joke about "Jerky Tommy Slap" (off the "Jerko" joke from the prior week), his cat, and a "big booty cheeseburger" meme I had sent you, which you showed your companion and you both giggled at.

The Zoom-handle joke and you and Natalie overlapping on missions

I said I want to change my Zoom name from "Jason Heywood" to "Big Booty Cheeseburger" and see how many people notice; you told me to do it. That led into the overlap: once you get off your mission, you will get to see Natalie week to week as she starts her own mission and goes through things. I said her P-day is Monday (per a fireside the day before) and that we can all join her Zoom. You agreed it is really cool.

Alexa, the Garmin watch, and Strava

I said I am going to let Alexa borrow my Garmin watch for her run, and that she is getting into running. You joked you first misheard it as the setup for a serious talk. I explained I would have to install Garmin on her phone and sync it to Strava, and we talked about Strava's social groups (running groups, meme groups, Church-member groups); I said I would keep an eye on it.

My social-media brags

I told you the senator who represents Utah liked a comment I made ("Thanks for representing Utah. You're doing a great job out there"), and I took a screenshot. I also said Hank Smith replied to a comment of mine, saying if I ever want to know about Jesus I should listen to his talks, though I admitted he says that to everybody. Then I ran the Anchorman bit about a friend with "lots of leather-bound books" whose house "smells of rich mahogany," is very rich, owns multiple Teslas, and has been spoken to by Elon Musk.

Wedgie banter

After asking how long your flight was (about two hours), I went off on a wedgie bit: offering to come give you one, explaining what a wedgie and an "atomic wedgie" are, and telling the story of my sister giving me an atomic wedgie as a kid while I sat playing a video game, ripping my underwear off and wrapping it around my head before running away laughing. I said I only ever gave non-atomic wedgies to my sons. It drifted into mock-repentance jokes.

Spanish wordplay

I tried out Spanish phrases and you coached me. I used "me pica el bagre" [the catfish bites me = I'm hungry], which you said your companion understood but you did not; "corto de luces" [not the brightest bulb]; and practiced "raro" [weird], which you said I said really well, joking I am "more Latino than I am." Several of these runs, especially when you were also goofing with your companion, were heavily garbled.

Your companion's "snake" and the Lord's Prayer ring

You explained the mission term "snake": someone who does not want the gospel but just wants the missionary. Your companion has one, a man named Ricky you had gotten as a Facebook reference. He was strange for the first couple of weeks (hanging up halfway through contacts, not showing up or answering WhatsApp), then finally came to church and met you both, and now messages constantly (you clarified "every day" meant "today"). He talks mostly to your companion, who is from Argentina and uses the voseo, asking how she is and saying he misses her; you canceled your call with him that night and he offered any other day. You also showed that your companion has a ring engraved with the Padre Nuestro in Spanish, and recited part of it; you said it is actually kind of cool.

Tan line and "soy yo" versus "yo soy"

You said your watch tan line is fading, which makes you sad because it means you are getting pale again ("blanco" / "blanquito"). We worked through the difference between "yo soy" (I am) and "soy yo" (it's me).

Speaking Spanish back home, and Prince of Egypt

I asked if you are excited to come back and talk to Spanish-speaking people you see. You joked you will go up to all the Mexicans and start rapid-fire talking until they wonder why another returned missionary is bothering them in Utah, and I joked you could then baptize them. You mentioned watching "The Prince of Egypt" up north, which you had to get the president's permission to watch, and joked you look like you are from Egypt.

Alexa's cross country and driving permit

Alexa talked directly. She said that by the time you get back, she should have her driving permit. She also said she has been doing cross country with Abby Price and Mae Siemens, that she likes the people but not the running. They meet at 6:50 every morning, do a half-mile warm-up run, stretching and warm-ups, a main run, then a cool-down with water, plus leg, upper-body, and core work; she runs around three miles every morning. I joked she will come home like Arnold Schwarzenegger, which set off a riff on his name. You noted that every time we say "Alexa," your companion thinks we are talking to a Google Alexa, which led into Google-assistant joke prompts.

My week ahead

I laid out the week: tomorrow (Tuesday) is the last full day we will have at home; Wednesday Natalie and I are driving up to watch Bryson play at Café Sabor and coming home after; Thursday afternoon we head to southern Utah for Mom's family reunion.

Why you did not write the president; closing

You said you did not write the president this week because you had an interview with him the day before, so you did not feel it was necessary; he had answered an earlier email of yours by noting "we talked yesterday." We briefly debated whether he was trying to tell you something, and you let it go. After more baptism-and-sacrament dark-joke banter, you said you had to go because you were going off of time. Mom again said she liked your thoughts in the email and that it would serve you well. We told you what an amazing opportunity you have to be where you are, said "I love you," and said goodbye.

Cleanup Notes