Hermana Heywood

Kaitlynn in the Chile Puerto Montt Mission

Family Catch-up Call with You (Puerto Montt), July 6, 2026

July 6, 2026 · Puerto Montt

Mom and I talked with you for about thirty-eight minutes this morning, the Monday after the Fourth of July. You were recovering from a fever and calling on your P-day before heading to the mall to get medical tests done for Hermana Figueredo and to buy makeup.

Opening and the Fourth of July fireworks ban

You were getting dressed when the call started and joked that you were not cute right now. I pointed out we were all in matching outfits; Mom said she was the only one who actually matched. I told you the Fourth had been good, that we got the pool up, but that fireworks had been banned. I said the governor had banned them across Utah because the state was in a drought and there had been major wildfires over the past month. You pushed back that it was the Fourth of July and asked why we could not do fireworks. I said it did not make sense to me to ban them inside the city, but it was what it was. Mom and I told you that usually we all look out over the valley and see aerial fireworks everywhere, but this year there was nothing except the city shows like the Stadium of Fire and Riverton City. Mom said you could watch fireworks, you just could not set them off yourself.

You were sick, and the "jump off a chair" test

You said you were cold and tired because you had run a fever the day before and your body was recuperating. Mom and I asked how sick you were. Mom joked about whether you had rabies, and you played along that you thought you had rabies. I brought up a bit about quarantine and marshmallows and said something similar had happened on Bryson's mission, joking that a quarantine-for-colds rule was probably one Bryson invented himself. We ran a joke about testing how sick you really were by making you jump off a chair, deciding that if you could jump off the chair you were not that sick.

P-day plans: medical tests for Hermana Figueredo, and makeup

You said the plan for the day was the mall and getting medical tests done for Hermana Figueredo, who had gone to the hospital. You said she had been diagnosed with fibromyalgia a year earlier, that in one of your interviews you had told the president she was "always dying" and needed help, and that the president told her to go get help. The doctor had ordered a batch of tests, which you would get checked that day. Afterward you planned to buy makeup, because, you said, "I look tired and everybody tells me I'm tired. I'm tired of looking tired." Mom asked whether you even owned makeup. You said you had been using Hermana Figueredo's, and that it worked because you are both very pale ("I am Latina"). I joked that I had been using Mom's concealer and it made me look low on iron and splotchy.

I floated a joke about you sneaking your own blood test in while they drew Hermana Figueredo's, comparing it to the trick I use to put the star on the Christmas tree by running my arm through Mason's shirt sleeve.

A hard week with Hermana Figueredo

I asked how the last week had been, and you said it had been hard. You said you often feel like a problem, that any time there is a problem it gets treated as your fault and never hers. Mom joked, "It is her fault," and you thanked her. You said it had been frustrating to be told you were the problem and that you needed a plan to fix you. You said you had finally told Hermana Figueredo you did not want to hear her opinion, because whatever you said, she would give the opposite opinion. You said you told her, "Sometimes you do not need to tell me your opinion. It is unnecessary," and that she answered she just loved sharing her opinion, to which you said, "Great, keep it to yourself." Then you said you had been a jerk and needed to be nicer, that she is "super sweet to me and super good to me, and I act like a child."

I apologized for laughing at how you said it. I said that when you spend so much time so close to another person it is easy to start getting that way, and asked what you had learned. You said you needed to grow up and be more mature, that you cannot control her and her opinions but can control how you react. Mom compared her to an older ward member, Sister Snyder, and said the difference is that your companionship is temporary: you are in a short experiment where you get to practice what you are learning each day, keep trying to get it right, get all the benefits, and then be done. You said you had been using it to learn how not to act, and that you really hoped your marriage would not be like this and that you would not choose someone like her. Mom said everything you develop now will help you do better in your marriage.

Departing missionaries and the elder who stopped acting like a missionary

You said part of your assignment is helping send off the missionaries ending their missions, which you had been doing that week. You described one departing elder who had liked a sister in his area and made comments about wanting to date her. At the airport, while you were helping missionaries check their bags, he came up and, with another elder standing there, proposed the four of you do a double date since "we're at BYU." You said you shut him down: "If I have anything to do with it, you're never talking to this sister ever." You said it made you mad because he was being childish and acting like a seventeen-year-old boy rather than a missionary. You said it frustrated you that he did not seem to understand why he was there or the importance of the plaque, and that "It doesn't matter if you ended your mission, you are still a missionary, and you are still a member of the church." Mom asked whether he was failing to act like a missionary or like a good member. You said he was being stupid, that taking the plaque off does not mean you stop acting according to what you learned, that the mission should change you and you should be a disciple of Christ always, with or without the plaque. You said he was acting as though the mission had been a day trip instead of two years of bringing souls to Christ, and added it was fine because he was gone and from Arizona, so you would never have to talk to him again.

BYU winter-semester housing plan

You said you had been talking with the sister the elder had a crush on, Hermana Thomas. Thomas and Hermana Stewart were best friends, had been companions, and were both going to BYU, but Thomas's plan had been to room with her best friend. You told Thomas to just be your roommate and find a four-person place so you could all live together, and she agreed. You said that if you can find a place for four at BYU for winter semester, "that would be awesome." Mom praised you for making friends.

Tissues, and a New Era article about dating

I asked whether you were blowing your nose in a dish rag; you said yes, it was easier than getting a tissue, and that you had toilet paper. Mom then asked, thinking of Alexa, whether at your teenage stage you would have been willing to hear what we had to say, or whether shutting a boy down at the beginning would have made you sneak around more. You said you remembered not understanding the rule: your excuse in your head was always that you were both good kids, so why could you not be together if neither of you would do anything wrong. You said your friend Hunter had shared a magazine article that literally answered that question. You looked for it during the call and found a New Era piece you thought was related, "Just Hanging Out," and another titled "What can we do if we like each other?" (dated 2013), which covered not pairing off before sixteen and considering intent. You sent it to Mom. Mom said the point was figuring out how to help all our kids understand their stuff, because if a rule does not make sense to the kid, it will be a problem. She told you that you had been a good kid and were now a good woman.

Departing friends and the loneliness of the transfer

Mom asked whether it was hard to have so many people you knew going home, since no missionaries go home for six weeks after this transfer. You said a lot of people you knew were leaving and that you felt like all your friends were leaving you. Mom called it an interesting place to be.

Helping with my talk

I said I had to give a talk on Sunday, on the topic "Strengthened by the faith of those who came before us," and was having a hard time coming up with a framework. You offered a technique from the mission: you always start planning a lesson with the invitation you are going to give and build around it, so I should start with what I want people to learn and build from there, which makes it easier to be direct and clear. I brought up an Elder Oakes anecdote in which a senior colleague read a draft talk and responded only, "Therefore, what?", and said I was trying to figure out my point.

I said I was thinking of telling stories about my parents, reading Book of Mormon passages about Alma the Younger remembering his father's words, Enos thinking about his father, and the stripling warriors being taught by their mothers. You liked it and told me to do it. Mom suggested reading conference talks about pioneers and reminded me I have the gospel in my life because of my ancestors. She also mentioned that my mother's handwritten testimony appears near the beginning of an Edwards family book. The topic ran into a long pioneer-and-genealogy comedy bit (handcarts to the bishop's storehouse, the ships of Hagoth to New Zealand and Hawaii, a Samoan-accent joke, and a comparison to a football coach).

Whether you could call on the Fourth, and closing

I asked whether you had been allowed to talk to us on the Fourth of July. You worked out that the Fourth had been two days earlier and that you had not gotten permission to call that day. Near the end you said you were still cold and needed your jacket, that you had to leave soon (around 10:45 for the mall and tests), and that you did not have a meeting that night so you would call again after. We closed with love-yous. Mom told you, "Learn the lessons you need to learn. Live the lessons you're learning."

Cleanup Notes