Yesterday afternoon I was awakened by the sound of my work cell vibrating on our counter. I wouldn't normally pick it up, but upon looking at it I realized it was an 801 area code so I thought I would pick it up (curious to think who in Utah would call my work number). It ended up being one of my good friends from the mission - Mike Blackham. I was excited to hear from him, but soon found out the news was not so good. He had called to inform me that one of our close mission friends - Cameron Court - had passed away this weekend in a snowmobile accident. Cameron had been a great friend on the mission. He was a great missionary - full of fun, love, and hard work. At one time on our mission he did a crank call to my mother (to set up a holiday call) where he told her he was calling her from a hospital about her son. My mother started crying - yes, it was a cruel joke - before we assured her that I was fine. Another time we were tracting and were invited into an old man's home. The man had a bunch of jars filled with what looked like mud. I asked him about them and he told me they were really old, pickled something. I told him that Cameron was a HUGE fan of that type of food, and it would be great if he could have some. The man's eyes lit up as he went to get a plate for us. I laughed inside as Cameron, trying not to be rude, tried so hard to eat the stuff. He tasted it and asked to leave, as he knew he was going to vomit. (By the way, I tried it also, and was able to keep it down - ah, I should have been on Fear Factor!). Another good memory of Cameron was a time when we would tract, we would say a random word right before making first contact, and our companion would have to use that word in the conversation. We got up and he said "vermes," which means worms. Trying not to laugh, we began the conversation. I asked the guy if he had lived here a while, and he noted that he had, as it was a nice place to live. I agreed, and said, "yeah, it's nice because the worms are great around here." Cameron busted up laughing and the guy kind of looked at me - probably thinking I just used a wrong word.
Those experiences make me laugh - and probably make everyone else think that we were not very serious missionaries. We were. He was one of our great zone leaders, and I will miss him. He loved to sing and often tried to convince me to sing with him. He wanted to be a country singer, so it really didn't fit my tastes. I feel bad for him for one main reason: he never got married or had kids. I'm sure he loved his life and had a lot of fun, but only one thing really brings a sense of happiness and godliness in this world: family. I feel bad that he wasn't able to experience what I have - the love of my life and kids that make me want to be better. He never was able to experience the hug of a child or difficulty of having a sick child. Will this keep him from heaven? Of course not. He will get that opportunity. But I am so grateful for what I have. I have been so blessed and would feel terrible to even think of complaining. So on a day of sadness - when a true friend has passed away - that grief brings me a sense of happiness in my life. I look forward to seeing him again some day. I miss you Cameron.
1 comment:
I am sorry to hear that. what a bad weekend it was. that is 2 people I know that died, and at this very moment, my sister just came out of emergency surgery. her internal stitches from her 1st surgery disolved too early, and her insides basically started falling out. on the weekend, she thought she had her blatter proclasp, but it turned out to be her bowel fell through her into vagina. my poor sister. so she is in the hospital for 3 days, and then another 6 weeks recovery, again. she had just had the all clear to go back to normal.
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