Excuse me, Ma'am. Your Hyperbole is Showing

I'll be restarting up my Saturday Super Story series next week. Can I hear a Hey Yo! 

Writing this series has caused me to think seriously about my memories and more specifically my memory. One problem that missionary kids run into is that we have moved around so much and seen so many unusual things that we don't always remember perfectly the experiences we've had. Pair this with being missionary kids that grow up and move far away from family members we don't have the benefit of holidays and reunions to go over favorite family stories where you will say: "Remember the time we went to Disney World and we lived there a week?" And your parents can say, "Actually, it was only a day...it just seemed like a week because you were so little."

 So, in writing my stories, I am documenting what is true according to my memory. The facts are there but some of the details may have slipped my mind or I may not have known the back story as my dad pointed out recently:

The story you wrote about Mexico reminds me of the reporter in McAllen that did an article just before we went to sing at the Casa de los Pinos in Mexico City. He said we'd traveled for several years in our van in Mexico-- instead of living for six months in a luxury campground with two tents, electricity, bathrooms, hot showers, and swimming pool. The background is that we left Oregon with the promise of a good teaching job with housing in Toluca, and didn't find out until we arrived that it fell though.

That was a toughie. However, we decided to stay-- that was the faith part. Really difficult would have been when Mom and I spent nine months 'on the road' inside Mexico City with you and Eric. You were a tiny baby when we arrived, so you don't remember, but THAT was tough.

 

I'm really glad that my dad is reading my blog so he can clarify different events that happened and perhaps fill in some of the details. My mom reads too but so far hasn't commented on things I've gotten right or wrong. I'm hoping even my siblings will chime in and add their two-cents about their take on the stories and experiences that shaped our lives.

 

I did err a bit when writing about my dad for his birthday. I mistakenly stated that he had become a missionary over  30 years ago when it has actually been just about 40 years. Either I can't do math properly or I was subconsciously trying to erase nearly a decade off my life since I know he was already a missionary when I was born. I'm gonna go with the latter. 

If I ever get something completely wrong I promise to come back and fix it for you. I value truth and honesty above all else.

 

Having said that I can't promise not to ever use a bit of hyperbole in making a point.  It's just too much fun.