Epilogue

Epilogue

I write these words on June 24, 2004. It has been six years, to the day, since I returned home from my missionary service in Mexico. My wife lies sleeping in the next room as I clack away at this keyboard. I am anxious to finish this work, to begin the editing process, to finally bind it into a book that, perhaps, future generations may know of my willing service in the Lord’s vineyard. This book has been over two years in the making. My original idea was to create a fictional account of eight individuals serving missions in Mexico. The novel would have been based heavily upon my own experiences, and the experiences of others as they related them to me. Although I wanted to create an accurate portrayal of mission life, love, and service, that book would have only been a fictional account. Shortly after I began initial plotting for that project, I attended a small gettogether with my wife’s family. Her brother had recently returned from a mission in Oakland, California, and he was to report to the extended family, share uplifting and inspirational mission stories, and perhaps motivate his cousins to likewise serve with honor. His presentation that night reminded me of how much I love the experiences of my own mission, and how much they inform who I am today. As I drove home later that evening, I realized, that if I was going to spend large amounts of time and effort on a project about missionary work, I wanted it to be of some value to Adrianne and to our children. This work was the logical result of that line of thought. When I started transcribing journal entries in February of 2002, I envisioned a massive historical document—a collection of every photo I took, every letter I wrote home, every minute fact that I could remember. As the project progressed, I recognized that a finished project of such magnitude would be unwieldy and uninteresting. I have

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since changed the format in an effort to create a work that will, perhaps, find favor in the eyes of my posterity. However, I never intended this to be a book with a cohesive story and comprehensive plot. It is simply my story, the story of how I came to be who I am today. When I came home from my mission six years ago, I did not know in which directions my life would take me, which paths I would travel, which joys and sorrows would be mine to enjoy. The road I have trodden since then has not been a tearless one, but neither has it been without its moments of happiness. It is a road that has continued to shape me in ways both unexpected and wonderful. Of the many places I have visited and the experiences I have had since my mission, the following five have had the greatest impacts on my life. The Cabin While we were yet greenies in the Mission Training Center, the elders in my district dreamed of a far-off day when our missions had been completed satisfactorily, and we could bask in the euphoric glow of a job well done. These musings often took the shape of Elder Watkins’ family cabin in Montana. “Someday,” we’d tell ourselves after a particularly tough Spanish lesson, “We’ll all meet again at Wattie’s cabin and…” The Cabin was a pipe dream, a symbol of the hope that all young missionaries have that they will fight the good fight, and return with honor. My hopes that the dream would be a reality someday were always tinged with my doubts that such an event was possible. Thus I was surprised when, after I had been home a month, I received a phone call from David Watkins. He told me that the Cabin Reunion was planned and scheduled and that he was calling all the guys (and the two sisters) from MTC District 60-B to invite us to spend a weekend at the cabin. I had just started working for my father and was unsure of how I would get the time off. Fate is inexorable, and in this case, intervened on my behalf. My brother, Blake, had recently turned eighteen, and I convinced him that he should ask for a road trip for his birthday. This road trip, using the family car, would take us to Montana, and Wattie’s Cabin, but it would also take us to Utah where I would show Blake around Temple Square, Brigham Young University, and the Missionary Training Center. My parents acquiesced, and for his birthday, my parents lent us the car for an extended weekend, paid for half of the gas on the trip, and gave Blake spending money for souvenirs in Utah. The following are excerpts from journal entries I made during that weekend: “We got into the Cabin late, and Friday morning we had a breakfast of pancakes, bacon, and eggs. We all headed down to the lake and water-skied. My first attempts resulted in a major wedgie and a hurt back. I’ll not be attempting it again soon. In the afternoon, we headed into West Yellowstone for an enjoyable melodrama. I haven’t been to a play since I graduated from high school; I had almost forgotten how much I enjoy theater, even cheap ones. Saturday was awesome. It was a very lazy day. I took the wave-runner out and raced the rain. We hot-tubbed, watched movies, and enjoyed each other’s company.”

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The Great 60-B Reunion was everything we had dreamed it would be during those monotonous days in the MTC. Since then, we had fought the good fight, and finished the course. That Saturday evening, our last night together, we prepared a grand dinner, and we took turns sharing our plans and dreams for the future. Six years have passed since that late summer evening. We still keep in touch and our friendship remains as strong as ever. Cancer My family has faced many crises over the years. We’ve survived them, not necessarily with grace, but we have all become stronger because of them. We’ve learned to be a cohesive family unit, learned to appreciate one another’s differences, and even learned to love one another. It’s been a long road, but perhaps we’ve made some visible progress during these last few years. Perhaps the greatest crisis we ever faced together came in April and May of 1999. Those were dark days for the family, and from them, we all grew tremendously. No one talks about it openly any more. But throughout the entire crisis, all of our emotions ran near the surface of our normally stoic facades. I had finished my first post-mission semester at BYU, and my eldest brother, Ryan, had driven out to Provo to bring me back to Denver for the summer. After a long day of driving, we arrived at the family homestead shortly after five in the afternoon. The entire Barrett clan was visiting for dinner, and afterwards, my parents dropped their bombshell: My father had been diagnosed with cancer. From a journal entry, dated April 26, 1999: “I’m still waiting for someone to wake me up or tell me it was just a joke, but reality is slowly settling in. He has skin cancer in one of his knees. He has looked up statistics and such on the internet; his type of cancer has an 80% survival rate if it doesn’t spread. However, we don’t know yet if it has spread or not. We all have to wait. “Tonight, Mike Lund, the elder’s quorum president, came over and we gave Dad a blessing. It was the most poignant event of my young life. To be able to lay my hands upon my father’s head and tell him those things that God would have him hear. I felt the Spirit guiding me and I know that what I said was not my own. After the blessing, I hugged my dad, and told him that I loved him. “We’ll get through this somehow. My whole life has changed, but we will learn to adjust. One of the sweetest things about this whole experience has been to observe Mom and Dad these last few days, their love and affection ever more apparent. If I wondered about it before, I can now no longer how much my parents love and cherish each other. I love and admire my dad. The way he has been able to calmly go about his life and even make jokes about his condition is an example to me. If I am someday half the man he is now, I will consider my life a happy success.” The operation successfully removed the cancerous growth from my father’s knee. Furthermore, using a radioactive injection, his doctors were able to locate the lymph nodes closest to the infected area and they determined that the

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cancer had not spread into those vulnerable areas. My father had been spared. And our lives continued on, much as they had before. The Pilgrimage It was shortly after the cancer scare that I approached my parents with my plan for traveling to Mexico. Very few additional comments need to be made concerning this trip; the pertinent facts have been outlined in the introduction of each of the preceding chapters. However, the following should be noted: Since I did not visit my areas in the same order that I served in them, some facts about the pilgrimage had to be rearranged, changed, or omitted in order to preserve the narrative flow. For example, I served in Matamoros near the beginning of my mission, but it was the last stop of my pilgrimage. In the text, I mention that Magda drove me to the bus stop so that I could continue with the next leg of my journey. What is omitted is that Magda drove me across the border to Brownsville, where I caught the Greyhound bus and there began the last leg of my long trek. Today, as I look back upon that great adventure, I am thankful that I made the effort to go. There are some places―Huejutla for example―that my heart still longs to revisit. For a few brief months after returning home from this adventure, I entertained the notion of learning the Nahuatl language and returning to the Huasteca every year to hone my skill. That pipe dream was quickly abandoned, though I still own the dictionary and grammar compendium for that indigenous tongue. It has been five years since I have returned to that wonderful little town. My heart still yearns to return to Huejutla, and perhaps someday I will convince my wife to come with me to those green and verdant hills. Dating I came home from my mission full of confidence in myself and ready to date. A month after returning home, I started dating Cathy. I met her at missionary homecoming of a good friend. Her father greeted me in the hall after the block meetings had ended, and he asked me about my plans for the future. I glibly replied that I was going to get married. Surprised, he asked, “you have a girlfriend?” I shook my head. “No. And that’s probably going to slow me down somewhat.” He laughed, took me by the arm, and said, “Let me introduce you to my daughter.” I started dating Cathy shortly thereafter and we really got along quite well. However, in August, I penned the following lines in my journal: “I just got home from another date with Cathy, and I’m really confused as always. I really like this girl, but there’s just no spark. I can’t see us being a very serious couple. I just don’t see it happening. But, now I’m in a bind. I don’t know how to progress, and I don’t know how to back out.” However, before I could end it, Cathy did us both a favor. “And she didn’t do it with much finesse either.” The night before a big double date with

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my younger brother (it would be his first date), she called to cancel on me. I spent most of the following day calling every girl I ever knew in an effort to find a replacement date. Kelli solved my problem by setting me up with the sister of her best friend. I was bitter about dating and women after that. I bided my time, waiting to return to BYU, where I was sure the field would provide me with better options. My dating experiences that first semester were less than stellar. I was unimpressed with the girls in my ward, and the blind dates my roommates arranged for me were often candidates for “Worst Date Ever.” During this time of upheaval in my personal life, I decided to wait for an old friend of mine to return from the mission she was serving in Moscow, Russia. I hoped that we could perhaps generate a spark between us, that perhaps we could be “more than just friends.” I stopped dating and started waiting. However, when Adrianne came home from Russia, she was spooked by the amorous signals I was subtly (or not so subtly) sending. She took off for BYU as quickly as she could. Six months would pass before I heard from her again, and by that time I was in a serious relationship with another young woman. In this “safe” environment, Adrianne and I renewed our friendship. In the fall of 2000, I took another semester off of school, hoping to work and save some money for school. In October of that year, the serious relationship I had been in for the last year ended. I sadly returned to BYU three months later. However, during this time of healing and renewal, I was blessed with wonderful roommates, an affable ward, and the warm friendship of Adrianne Nash. The sadness I felt from my failed relationship soon gave way to optimism and hope. I once more approached the dating scene with confidence and zeal, having learned many lessons in the previous two years. I went on several dates each with Julie, Alyson, and Erica, all within a couple of months. The latter became known as “Fish Girl” in my apartment because she had once turned me down for a date, claiming that she had to go to a birthday party for her roommate’s fish. It was in this environment when I recorded the following three realizations in my journal. “Epiphany #1—I can do the choosing. There are girls out there who may actually be pre-disposed to liking me. I only need to be myself and quit trying so darn hard to impress everyone I go out with. Epiphany #2—Dating is not a test drive, it is a self-discovery. Every date should teach me something about myself, so that I can better define those qualities that I am looking for in an eternal companion. Epiphany #3—Just because a girl is fun to date does not mean I am obligated to pursue a relationship with her (for example, my brief fling with Cathy).” With these flashing moments of clarity, I was finally able to enjoy dating. Adrianne Nash The political science class I attended during winter semester 2001 required each student to view three movies about various political subjects. While we were studying foreign policy, the movie “Thirteen Days” was in theatres, and the professor suggested that we see it as one of our three movies. I decided that not

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only was it a better alternative than the other options (for example, a video produced by BYU Studios), but that it would also be a great dating opportunity. I invited Cameron Clapper to go on a double date with me; he was interested in this movie about the Cuban missile crisis as well. Since he was married, he already had a date for the evening, and I was left with the onerous task of finding a date for myself. “I had been turned down by several girls already. I called Ady, in desperation, hoping she could go. We went, and after the movie, I found myself locked out of my apartment. So, Ady and I went over to her sister’s house and hung out with her and her husband and little Abigail. It felt right. It felt good. “My roomies still weren’t home, so we went back to her apartment and watched Star Wars: Episode One. We started watching the movie with my head on her lap, but being uncomfortable, we shifted positions, and to my surprise I found myself cuddling with her. We watched the rest of the movie with her arms around me, talking and laughing. When she dropped me off that night, I plopped down on my couch and asked myself, “What the hell just happened there?” That was February 23, 2001. By March 20th, we were an official couple. I penned these lines on April 16th: “All is well in the Land of Nate and Ady. We’re doing awesome, and today, for the first time, I felt a kind of giddy excitement, something that had been lacking before. I’m definitely falling in love with her.” A month after that: “Ady left for Europe yesterday, and now I have three weeks in which I can step back and look at my life. I know that I love her, but experience tells me that sometimes love just ain’t enough. I’ve been without her for just a day, and already I miss her. In the past two months she has become a part of me, a part that I don’t think I can live without. She is inside of me in a way that no other person has ever been able to do. She is everything that I have desired in a companion. She is down-to-earth, practical, money-smart, musical, and she is my best friend.” Adrianne and I were married in the Denver Temple, for time and all eternity, on December 27th, 2001. Though we had known each other since kindergarten, it had taken us twenty years to figure out that we belonged together. However, once we started dating, everything else quickly fell into place. Much more could be said about the wonderful woman who is now my wife. More time should be devoted to the story of our courtship, our engagement, and our wedding. However, it is beyond the scope of this present work to include such an exhaustive subject matter. Suffice it to say that I love my wife, I am grateful for the pain I had to endure while I was single, because it makes me cherish the treasure that is married life.

Much has changed in our life since then. We are now living in Tucson, Arizona. I am attending graduate school, working on a Master’s Degree in City Planning. Although we have been greatly blessed, we have also had to pass through many trials. We are learning new lessons every day, and we reverently add them to the collection of old lessons that we have collected over the years.

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This body of work, small though it is, contains the most important lessons I have ever learned: God lives. His Son is our Redeemer. Joseph Smith was a true prophet of God. The Book of Mormon is the word of God. The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is the kingdom of God on earth, and is led by a prophet in our day and age. Someday soon, Adrianne and I hope to begin a family of our own. We hope to be able to prepare this rising generation, to teach them how to be happy and productive members of society. We cannot teach them all that they must know; so much of life can only learned in the living of it. But, if nothing else, we pray that our children, and our children’s children “may know to what source [we] may look for a remission of [our] sins.” “Yea, come unto Christ, and be perfected in him, and deny yourselves of all ungodliness; and if ye shall deny yourselves of all ungodliness, and love God with all your might, mind, and strength, then is his grace sufficient for you, that by his grace ye may be perfect in Christ; and if by the grace of God ye are perfect in Christ, ye can in nowise deny the power of the Holy Ghost.” (Moroni 10:32)

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