A Just About Perfect Day

I imagine that some of you might be starting to wonder, LaShel, when are you going to start talking about missionary work. That's an understandable question. As I mentioned in a previous post, our stay in Leganés will be a temporary one. Our more permanent assignment will be in Bilbao, which is on the north coast, not far from the French border. We'll be going to an apartment there that will soon be vacant when the current missionary couple returns home. Given that my call, among other things will be to work with our local leaders, much of what I anticipate doing won't start until we get settled there. I do have a couple projects that I'm starting on, but there's not much to talk about quite yet.

Mark, however, has been working as the mission health advisor since we arrived. He has been rather busy, but does almost all of his work on the phone and through video calls. As a result, we have been able to travel and reconnect with some of his friends from his first mission in southern Spain, nearly 50 years ago. We're grateful for this time, since we won't be able to do so as easily from the north. This week we went to Vilafranca del Penedès, not far from Barcelona.

The bishop of the Vilafranca ward is José Cruz, the son of a man that Mark taught when he was a brand new missionary in Cádiz. After being assigned to a new city, he lost contact with Pedro Cruz. It wasn't until about 15 years ago that Mark's former missionary companion from Cádiz reconnected with the Cruz family through social media. He learned that this family had become a pillar of strength in that beautiful city. Pedro and his wife had four children and they all served missions, in England, Los Angeles, Madrid, and Barcelona. Of his 5 grandchildren, four of them have served, two each in Argentina and Chile. 

When Mark left Cádiz, José was 9 years old. Seeing him again was one of those things on Mark's "gotta do in Spain" list. We drove to Vilafranca to meet José on Sunday, a hour and a half before church began. Their reunion was a very tender moment, a glimpse of what I anticipate will happen in the next life as we meet and thank those whose lives affected ours for good. 

We were immediately embraced and treated like family by this kind and gentle man. The week before, José had asked Mark if he would speak for a few minutes in the Sacrament meeting, and he told the story of his connection to the Bishop's family.

José invited us to the midday meal at his home, which in Spain is the main meal of the day. José's wife was out of town caring for her mother, but their lovely daughter, Araceli, who served her mission in Argentina, was there and was absolutely delightful. We were also joined by the two young elders who serve in the ward. José had prepared the meal ahead of time, a delicious traditional dish of fideos and seafood called Fideuà.

It was the week of José's birthday, and after the huge dinner we also had dessert with candles, accompanied by the traditional song. I didn't know that there were Spanish words to Happy Birthday to You.

We talked around the table long after the meal was over. There's a word for that in Spanish. It's called sobremesa. I love experiencing a culture that has a special word just for time spent connecting with family and friends over and after meals. Curious, I looked to see if this word I learned a couple weeks ago was really a thing or if it was just a clever quip. It's really a thing. Here's part of a fun article about the sobremesa by Matt Hammerle:

In Spain food is an excuse to talk to friends and spend time together. The focus is the conversation and people, not the food. The longer the meal drags on the more time you get to spend with your friends and family. Three-plus hour meals are not uncommon in Spain.

La sobremesa with the Cruz family was every bit of three hours and more. Friendships were definitely made, in my case, and renewed and strengthened for Mark. Our day in Vilafranca was just about perfect in every way.