Kaitlynn in the Chile Puerto Montt Mission
Mom and I talked with you for about forty-six minutes this afternoon while you rode an hour-long bus toward Coyhaique, after flying a couple of hours to get down there for exchanges. Hermana Figueredo was on camera with you for a good part of it. This was the second of our three calls today, and it turned into a long one about companionships, opinions, and learning to love someone hard to love.
Mom and I talked with you for about thirty minutes tonight, after you texted us that you had given Hermana Figueredo feedback she asked for and she had ended up crying (that chat is filed as 2026-07-20_sms_kaitlynn-companion-cried). You had to talk quietly because she was downstairs. This was our third call of the day, and the most serious. I opened by telling you it sounds like you have a choice right now on who you want to be.
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.
Mom and I talked with you for about fifty-six minutes this evening, our second call of the day and a long, serious one. You opened by telling us that you and Hermana Figueredo had just had a hard, direct conversation in which she told you that you were not trying to love her for who she is.
Mom and I talked with you for about seventy-eight minutes this morning, the first of two calls we would have with you that day. You were sick and homesick, and told us more than once that you were done being a missionary with 70 days left.
About fourteen minutes, the third call of your July 13. This was the one where Natalie walked you through her MTC packing, two days before we drove her down. You were on video from Chile, fresh off the volcano. Mom and I were in and out. I was working in the garage for most of it.
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.
Mom and I talked with you for about fifty-eight minutes this evening, the day after your emergency travel, now that you were back in Puerto Montt during transfer week with a crowded apartment full of incoming and outgoing sisters.
Mom and I talked with you for about forty-eight minutes this morning while you were on emergency travel in the south of the mission. President Mackay had sent you and Hermana Figueredo back down to Coyhaique and Punta Arenas to keep a struggling sister and her companion from separating and to keep that sister from going home, and you were calling us from inside a pharmacy in Coyhaique.
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.
We talked about 34 minutes on P-day while you packed in Puerto Montt. Mom, Alexa, and I were all crowded on the one camera at home. You were flying out that afternoon for a three-day Hermana Líder Viajera exchange to Punta Arenas, due back Wednesday.
A short Father's Day call, about fourteen minutes, with you calling from your house during what was technically your personal study time.
We talked four separate times today while you traveled as Hermana Líder Viajera on an exchange blitz to Coyhaique and Puerto Aysén: two quick connections on your way to the airport in the morning, a longer one from the airport restaurant, an afternoon catch-up, and a long call late at night from the mission house, the night before Natalie goes through the temple. This is the whole day pulled together.
Mom and I caught you in the evening from your study room while you were serving as Hermana Líder Viajera in Puerto Montt. The big news on our end was that Craig is being re-baptized this Sunday and I get to do it; the big news on yours was that President Mackay gave you permission to drive a mission vehicle.
Our weekly Monday P-day morning call, in two parts: a first call about 7:37 a.m. that ended when you had to get on a bus, and the callback you promised "in 10 minutes," which came about 8:28 a.m. You were eating breakfast and heading out for a zone P-day at a member's property in the country. The audio was rough, especially the callback.
This was the weekly P-day morning call, about 52 minutes, on Natalie's birthday and the day before her high school graduation. You were in Puerto Montt. Mom joined me partway through for a long photo slideshow, and your companion Hermana Figueredo spoke up twice from off your camera. The raw was rough, so a lot of this is in summary rather than exact words.
This was about a 75-minute Memorial Day call. You were in your new area in Puerto Montt, into your first week as Hermana Líder Viajera with the APs. Mom and Alexa were both at home with me; we passed the phone around and you and Alexa got the first stretch before you asked for the phone to go to Mom.
About a 40-minute afternoon video call. Mom was on her phone elsewhere and not on screen. You were at the mission home compound with Hermana Snowder (asleep) and Hermana Figueredo. About 30 minutes left in your P-day.
About a 48-minute evening video call - 10:55 your time, 8:55 mine. I was on the home side, Natalie was in and out of frame, Alexa joined around minute 24 and stayed through the rest, and Mom was off-camera most of the call. You were at the mission home compound in Puerto Montt.
About a 38-minute morning video call - 9:00 my time, 11:00 yours. Mom was with me on the home side. You were at the mission home compound in Puerto Montt, in a trio with Hermana Snowder (your trainer, two days from going home) and your incoming companion Hermana Figueredo. First day of the new transfer.
About an 83-minute evening video call. I was on the home side, Mom joined intermittently from off-camera, and you were in your house in Valdivia (moving a fridge when you picked up). A washing machine ran for much of the call and you flagged repeatedly that you could not hear well over it.
Roughly 43-minute morning call. Your week 60 of the mission, currently in Valdivia with Hermana Artieda. Three substantive threads: a possible AP call coming at interviews on May 9 with transfer day May 20; your recent STL work including two crises you helped manage; and your planned return home the week of September 23, 2026.
Short Monday evening catch-up call. I joined the call accidentally as you (which is why you couldn't see me) before we sorted it out. The substantive thread: a full update on Mauricio, your convert who passed the sacrament for the first time on Sunday.
Short Monday morning call, roughly six minutes, with terrible connection - large stretches you were nearly unintelligible. Three actual exchanges landed before you gave up and said you would call back when you had better signal.
Roughly 72-minute Monday evening video call. Connection broke repeatedly throughout. The call spans an enormous range of topics.
Roughly 42-minute Monday morning call. You were exhausted, the zone had no energy, and you were wrestling with how to support a struggling companionship in a dangerous sector. I gave leadership coaching; you and Mom worked through mental health and journaling; Mom joined for a library story.
Our Monday P-day evening call, about 53 minutes, with you in Valdivia and Hermana Stewart off your camera, and Mom and Alexa here with me. The Krisp recording only caught the first few minutes before the connection died; this is rebuilt from the fuller Zoom recording, which picks up at the BYU-housing talk and runs the rest of the call. The internet fought us the whole way.
Monday morning call between you and Mom. Three main threads: Mom attended the filming of a YSA devotional where Elder Stevenson's wife was present and you should watch for her friend Emily; Alexa passed her high school choir audition and Mom held back from scolding her before the tryout; and I still owe you an email with prom pictures you noticed was missing at 2 AM.
Long call - about sixty-seven minutes from Valdivia, the day before your transfer. You were cleaning your room for Hermana Stewart, who would be moving in the next morning. The substantive thread of the call was the rule-break with your current companion that crystallized for you that your loyalty is "100%" to the Lord - that was one of your reasons for extending. The rest was a zone-walkthrough for me and Mom, Brad Wilcox's visit Thursday, the journal habit you'd started, Easter chocolate, fashion-show clothes, and a long sprawling banter.
Evening family call. You're leaving the next morning for a leadership council in Puerto Montt. Substantive new content: Rood's full baptism backstory.
Short ~7-minute call. You called specifically to check on me - I had told you I was drained, and you picked up on it.
Evening family call. Two heavy threads: Hermana Artieda yelled at you over a choice you hadn't made fast enough, and Mackay's email thanking you for your testimony was read aloud.
Midday Monday call. You were on your bunk bed, social battery empty after a "big huge sleepover" with all the hermanas in the zone the previous night.
Evening call following the morning extension announcement. You shared video of a downpour and worked through leadership inadequacy. Heaviest substantive thread: a Harley Quinn clip in an Uber stole your Spirit and you reflected on the cost of re-entering media-culture post-mission.
The mission extension announcement. You told Mom and me that in your interview with Presidente Mackay this week, you committed to extending your mission by one transfer. Your new return date is approximately September 2026 (one transfer past the original).
P-day call across two consecutive call sessions.
Sunday-morning call, your first weekend after transferring to Valdivia. You are with your new companion Hermana Artieda and effusive about her.
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.
The substantive call of this batch. Three threads: your first hermana-leader intercambio; your no-emotion goodbye with Carlos in Coyhaique; and the family prayer for Natalie's mission decision (the load-bearing event of the call).
Long Monday call broken across three fragments by connection drops. Anchored by yesterday's baptism: William was baptized along with two others (a triple baptism that ran over its time slot). William's young daughter attached to you at the piano - sat on the bench with you, put her hands on yours while you played the prelude, told you "I love you" while staring up at you in the hall after the service.
Short Monday call from the top of a 3,280-foot granite spire near Coyhaique. The same hike you did at New Year's took six hours and didn't reach the summit; this time it took an hour and a half because the group was four people who can all actually hike. Cold, windy, steep.
Monday evening call. Heavy threads: a Coyhaique friend / contact of yours checked himself into a doctor's house on suicide watch (he turned himself in; you are relieved he is getting help). You sent the long-debated "Dear John" letter to your pre-mission peer. Companion-pace conversation with Juncker. A tense $215 lunch with a rich RM's dad. Bryson update: his first real date with a pickleball girl got canceled.
Long, meandering Monday call. You just got back from a P-day hike up Cerro Mackay with the whole district.
Sunday evening birthday call (mine). You gave me a full Spanish-singing happy birthday and a 10-minute walking tour of your Coyhaique apartment.
Birthday-call segment for Mom. Notable items: Hermana Bird is engaged (you found out via Facebook). Alexa receives her patriarchal blessing this Thursday January 15 from Patriarch Armstrong (the same patriarch who blessed Natalie); Alexa called and set the appointment up herself. Danica's mission call should arrive in the next day or so. You shared a cute Sebastian story - a 4-or-5-year-old boy at a door climbed the fence to pet your face and kiss your forehead while you kept teaching the mom. Long shopping segment to order a BYU hoodie from Amazon for Carlos (of Carlos and Victoria). You and Hermana Juncker will do a musical number at next week's zone conference in Puerto Montt - you on piano, Juncker singing.
Long Monday call across two segments (you called once during a cleaning P-day and once during family dinner). Deep summer in Coyhaique - 95 to 100 degrees F days. You and Juncker have been pouring water on yourselves to take "real" sweaty pictures, the apartment has flies everywhere, and you are sunburned beyond what local Latinos consider plausible.
Major call. The most substantive single thread was your interview with Presidente Mackay over Christmas: he confirmed you stay in Coyhaique with Hermana Juncker for another transfer, then pivoted to tell you something he said he probably shouldn't - every time the mission leadership council has discussed who might be the next hermana AP, your name has come up. Your peers respect you; Hermana Mackay respects you; the Lord respects you. You don't think it will happen (you don't believe you have enough time left), but the framing landed.
Short call dominated by three Coyhaique miracle stories from the last couple of days. Four hermanas were spending Christmas together at your apartment so the audio was chaotic. Connection issues throughout.
Long Monday call. You walked me through your morning (a 6-mile run with the elders that landed you at a hilltop "Indian rock" and back, then a Mall Chino shopping trip for Christmas gift-exchange items). You had four baptismal dates this week and all four fell through. You framed it as a learning experience: "we're here, not to force people to get baptized; we're here to find the people who are ready." You have mastered sopaipillas, are obsessed with the local roscas / calzones rotos, and named a black street dog "Sheblon" - after the son of Alma the Younger, not the Antichrist (I looked it up).
Long Monday call from inside an Uber on your way to a district asado in the mountains. Big threads: maggots discovered under your shoes that morning; a stolen $30 Uber Eats sushi-roll order; a new investigator Carmen (Coyhaique) who literally found you on the street with a December 28 baptismal date; and a long Hurricane, Utah aside when you realized your zone leader Hermana Patterson is from Hurricane and Patterson's mom (Holly Hinton, maiden name) graduated with me. Family news: Aunt Cathie Faerber died; I was leaving for the funeral after the call.
Evening call same day as the morning one. Three big threads: tech support (you wanted me to walk you through Google Chat spaces because Juncker is trying to set one up for her family back home and Juncker's mom won't make a Facebook account); a real-world money problem (Juncker's mission card is locked, the mission office has gone silent all day, and you've been bankrolling everything from your own ~$300 monthly stipend - down to about $50 and genuinely stressed); and a virtual Christmas tree tour from the home side, with Mom showing every ornament including your "in loving memory" photo positioned at the very top of the tree.
Your first weekly call from Coyhaique. You arrived earlier in the week with Hermana Juncker (your greenie, from Highland, Utah - practically neighbors). The journey was harrowing: you had to navigate to a city you'd never been to without WiFi, find a backpack and pants for Juncker at a mall you couldn't locate, find the apartment, and act like you knew what you were doing the whole time so Juncker wouldn't panic. Juncker was happy and unaware. The first few days Juncker didn't want to talk at all, so you taught every lesson and did every contact - and lost your voice. The cold compounded the stress. By call time you sounded "like a 12-year-old boy going through puberty."
Long Monday evening call, continuation of the morning packing day. You were still packing for tomorrow's transfer to Coyhaique. The whole family was around the home-side phone at various points (me, Mom, Mason, Natalie, Alexa).
Monday call on the eve of your transfer 6 move from Puerto Montt to Coyhaique. You were packing during the call. The transfer itself is significant: Coyhaique hasn't had hermanas serving there in about eight years (you called it "pink-washing" the sector), you are being assigned to train your first hija (likely a Brazilian), and you will have no area book at first because the app transfer takes days. You didn't know who your companion would be yet but knew the names of four incoming hermanas (Juncker, Kenison, Ekery, and one Brazilian). I started stalking each on Instagram.
A chaotic Thanksgiving Day video call. The whole family was on the home side at varying points (me, Mom, Bryson, Mason, Alexa); you were on your end in Puerto Montt. The call ranged across many topics in the way family holiday calls do, with photo sharing, riffing, sibling interruptions, and a substantive close on missionary protection.