Letter #34

The week started and ended great, but in between was without a doubt the roughest week yet.

On Monday, because of some stellar planning and a tight member with a car, we got five lessons in, instead of the normal three.

Tuesday, we caught the train to Jundiaí to have a district meeting and do some pre-surgery exams. While we were there, we found a less-active member that we've been trying to contact, working. Marked a date to visit that family, with a promise of a BBQ.
Got a call from Carmen that her date was stellar, he gave her a picture of himself, and that he proposed. She said no, but told me she's just stalling a little and that she'll probably say yes on their next date.

Wednesday, after a sleepless night on the ground of the other missionaries' apartment, we were in the hospital at 5:30. 17 hours later I was pushing a wheel-chaired companion through the dark streets of the city. While I was in the hospital, alone, I got a call to go downstairs. While I was down there, after being told that nobody had called our room, Kevin came in on a gurney.

He was conscience and we had a little talk, what was going on and such.
That morning he had sent me a message (which I couldn't respond to because of our phone plan), which said, "Elder, I don't think I'm gonna make it to my baptism." After various, unsuccessful attempts to call, I had to let it wait.

When I asked him why he was on the gurney, he said, "Hey idiot, I'm a man who has smoked three-fourths of a million unfiltered, cheap cigarrettes, I'm probably in the hospital because of that."
His house had caught on fire, just a little fire, and the smoke had sent him into some sort of heart attack. I felt really bad, but he was laughing and happy and told me not to worry. So he stuck my name as his emergency contact, because his only relative is his 90 year old sister in Japan.

Thursday morning, I got a call from the hospital that Kevin had passed away in his sleep, something to do with heart problems related to his smoking. He wrote a letter to Carmen, telling her he'd have to marry her "on the other side" and that these last weeks were the "most pure he had lived." So that was really really rough. By the time we got back on Thursday, all the stuff in his house was gone, either burned or thrown out or boxed for his sister.

And the rest of the week, I was under house arrest with my recovering companion, which put the work on shut down.
So that was that
What a week.
Good news, on Tuesday were gonna get three more elders in this city, my companion is gonna be African (or, since everybody in this city thinks I'm African, ANOTHER African), and that's that..
Hopefully we can get some good news into these letters soon,

Love,
Elder White Chocolate