Hermana Heywood

Kaitlynn in the Chile Puerto Montt Mission

Morning Departure Call with You, July 20, 2026

July 20, 2026 · Puerto Montt (departing for Coyhaique)

I talked with you for about fifty-two minutes this morning while you packed to travel to Coyhaique for exchanges. Mom drifted in and out. It was the first of three times we got to talk to you today, and it was mostly light: you were getting ready to leave, and we caught up on Natalie, your travel, and a hundred small things.

Mosiah 21 and your emails

I told you I had been reading in Mosiah 21, where Limhi, the son of King Noah, is talking with Ammon. You thanked me for my emails and said you were halfway through writing back and were answering both of them. You said the pictures we sent made you cry, that you are going to miss Natalie so much, and that it is now another year and a half before you will see her.

Being near Natalie after your mission

I brought up the idea of you getting to be with Natalie somehow, and said that if you are interested, we should probably start talking to mission presidents. You asked whether it would even work and said you would mention it to President Mackay in your email that day. Later in the call it came back: I told you it is a possibility for you to serve near Natalie for a week or two, and you said you would have to email President about it, though you did not think he would see it until Thursday, and that you probably should have sent that email a long time ago. You asked me directly whether this was something I wanted or something we were pushing, and I told you it has to be your decision. You said you did not know how you felt yet and would think about it.

Traveling to Coyhaique

You said this would be your third time back in Coyhaique, and that you would go one more time before you come home. You were flying out that day and said you should already be at the airport, but you had decided to travel on your P-day. You told me the planes are normal jets, the airport is small, and it was very cold, colder than Puerto Montt. You said you liked the sweater you were wearing, which came from Germán, a bishop. You told me about going to houses where the kids have never seen a gringo, and a little boy who came into the room four times just to stare at you during lunch.

Your companion's milestone and the returning-missionary plan

You said your companion had hit a mission milestone and explained how Latino missionaries' timelines work differently, that they do not spend as long in the MTC and, if they do not extend, they conclude on a different schedule. You also told me you got your "plan," the program missionaries do to prepare to go home; it covers the last six weeks, which is your last transfer. You have not started it and do not want to, because you do not want to think about home. I confirmed that would be your last transfer.

Trunky versus thinking about home

I asked whether you were getting trunky. You said you had raised it with President Mackay, and he told you there is a difference: being trunky is when thoughts of home get in the way of the work, but just thinking about home is normal. You said you do not think you have been letting it get in the way, and that this companionship has been calmer than the last one, calm enough that you wondered if you were forgetting something. I told you that things being calmer is probably because you have been doing this a while and are used to it, and you agreed that not everything has to be hard to be done right.

A job when you come home

You said you need to start thinking about a job if you want to go back to the hospital, and asked me for Trent Howell's email so you could reach out that day. You also raised finding a phlebotomy class for when you get home, in about eight weeks, and said we would need the schedule to figure it out.

Natalie's send-off and drop-off

You asked about the picture of Natalie on the porch with people gathered out front. I told you the ward came to sing. You said that tradition started when you left on your mission: the youth and any adults who want to come gather the night before and sing "Called to Serve." You asked whether Natalie cried, and I said I did not know, that with so many people and emotions she may have gone a little numb.

You asked about the drop-off, and I told you it was quick, like yours: because the Provo Temple is torn down and being rebuilt, we took pictures off the porch instead, and at the MTC it was a two-second stop, quick hugs, and gone. You said Natalie turned and looked at us one last time, then immediately turned to her sister companion in a cheerful voice, asked her name, and was gone. You said you were impressed and proud, that she is brave and has come a long way, and that this is the beautiful thing about the gospel and the Savior's Atonement: we do not have to stay who we were.

Bryson's friends and the family circle

I told you about Tuesday night, when the ward came to sing and then Bryson's friends came over, and how one of them, Jesse, said "bro" more than anything else. You described the family study circle where you had everyone tell Natalie why they loved her and give her advice, and how Bryson's friends Ari and Jesse got put on the spot when they arrived; Jesse froze and asked why you were even asking him. You said, "I love our family."

Banter: jumping off the chair, Theraflu, and a Hawaii dream

We ran through a long round of family jokes: the childhood "jump off the chair to prove you're sick" story, the porch-swing yard-sale story, and Theraflu (which you said is called Tapsin in Chile and which your companion is "addicted" to). You floated a family trip to Hawaii and kept asking Mom to come; we joked about leaving the younger kids with Uncle Chad or having them "raised by Nick." You also brought up an elder, Isaiah Davis, who had behaved inappropriately toward Natalie, and we traded jokes about it. And you taught me that "hot dog" in Spanish is pancho, not poncho (the garment).

Close

You said you needed to focus because you and your companion had things to do before traveling. We said we loved each other, and you told me to have fun with my companion, meaning Mom.

Cleanup Notes