Dear family,
I’m excited to report that I am no longer traveling to a different city to go to church like I don’t live in Utah. That’s right, Luke and I are no longer going to our old ward in Vineyard ward because I successfully completed Mission: Girls’ Camp and have retired from my old calling.
Girls’ Camp was a wonderful experience. I expected to have fun and to witness our young women draw closer together and make new friends, but I was surprised by how strongly all of the girls quickly grew to love each other. Of all of the experiences at camp, watching the young women care for each other was the sweetest.
The other leaders seemed surprised by how well everyone got along, mostly due to their previous experiences with camp and the drama that always seems to come up among the girls at some point. It’s funny, I definitely remember some drama from my years as a camper, but I didn’t think my leaders ever really knew anything about it. Maybe I was wrong.
But then again, a lot of teenage things seem a lot less serious to me now than they probably would’ve when I was teenager. So there was probably something horribly distressing to someone earlier this month and I did not pay any mind.
The most memorable morning of camp was when I was lying in my tent, trying to decide whether or not to try to get another few minutes of rest, when I heard an alarm going off in a nearby tent. My first thought was, “there is no WAY this girl actually wanted to be awake at 5:50 this morning.” My second thought came as the alarm continued to go off for minutes: “How can anyone stand to have this alarm sound every morning.”
iPhone has created some lovely alarm sounds. Some are very strange and I don’t understand them. Some are pretty classic and I can’t imagine ever choosing them. The one that goes, “ERH ERH ERH ERH” at 90 bpm is one that, sure, sounds like a classic alarm and I would rather never get anywhere on time than hear it every morning.
It wasn’t so bad from where I was; I felt worse for the girls in the tent. But after a few minutes of air raid warning, the dogs started barking.
The dogs went on for long enough that the alarm was off by the time they stopped. I don’t know what it sounds like to you, but in my mind, there was a Jeep driving circles around camp with dogs leashed to the tow hitch and the howls and yelps were reactions to the Jeep going too fast for the dogs to run with it.
I doubt this is what was happening, but that was the only image in my mind for the minutes they were running all around the campgrounds at 6 AM. Well, that and the idea that maybe the sounds were coming from many distressed elk, because who really knows what those sound like?
What I know for sure weren’t causing the shrieking animal sounds are the snipes.
I didn’t know what snipes were before this girls’ camp, but I was pretty sure they were a prank. Now, I have a little more perspective on the matter.
If you know, you know, I guess. That’s all I feel I’m allowed to write here. I will disclose that I did put toothpaste on my face at camp this year.
Anyway, girls’ camp was a lovely and spiritual experience, both for me and for the girls (I think and hope). We had a classy closing testimony meeting where some frightening and personal stories were shared, along with some proclamations of adoration for fellow campers, and some testimonies about faith and growth and the importance of Jesus Christ. Always a mixed bag, but a sincere one.
Coming back from camp was bitter sweet; sweet, as it allowed me to see Luke again. This short, three-day camp was the longest I’d been away from him since getting married and I was feeling a little homesick. I know two nights is not a long time to be away from a spouse, but I really am quite used to spending the vast majority of my non-working time with him.
But I did have to say goodbye to my ward and my young women all at once. It was hard, to be thrown into a calling that asks for so much love and prayer and focus toward a small group of incredibly sweet people, only to know the whole time that I’d be leaving soon.
I do miss my new friends from the Vineyard ward, as well as the purpose I felt being there with the young women. I am still in the young women’s leaders’ group chat though. I should probably leave soon, but that just seems sad.
But life continues on, and the day after returning from camp, I took the car to Walmart to get our tires changed (something my mechanic told me to do before, oh, winter of 2023). I’d had a long day at work and was feeling tired, so when Luke offered to come hang out at Walmart with me while I waited for the work to be done, I gladly accepted.
We walked around, eventually stopping in the technology department where I played a game on one of the laptops in the technology section that required very little brain power. Eventually, we got the text that the car was done, so Luke went out to the other car (one we borrowed from Carter and Brittany for the occasion) while I went to go get my car. The only thing was that there were no employees at the desk to receive me, and the exit into the garage where they work on the car had to be unlocked by an employee before every usage.
So I couldn’t get out to my car through the most obvious exit door. I started the trudge to the front door, which was pretty far away from where I was and even further away from where my car probably was. I was starting to think unkind thoughts about the Walmart employees at the tire center.
As I approached the store entrance, I saw the garden area of the store, which was outside surrounded by a fence. I thought, hey, Home Depot has an exit from the open-air, garden portion of its stores because Home Depot is a well-made store that cares about the happiness and emotional well-being of its customers. Walmart is a good store too, which means it probably takes similar care to provide its customers with a similar escape from the garden area.
This was my thought.
And so, I walked to the garden area of Walmart, saw a gate, walked to the gate, and examined it for a moment.
It did seem like an odd place for an exit. Since there were no nice checkout stalls like in the Home Depot garden area, it did seem like a flaw to have an escape route for desperate aspiring gardeners outside where there were no witnesses. However, my time in this life has taught me that doors that do not want to be opened will either not be opened or they will have a sign saying, “I will scream if you try to open me” or “emergency exit” or “exit” or anything, literally anything, to imply that something will make you sad if you try to open it unless you’re trying to rob the freaking casino in Ocean’s 11.
There were no signs or indicators (besides my logical brain telling me that the gate functioning would be a poor grocery store security design) and so I tried to open the gate and was immediately overwhelmed by the very loud noises that were rudely accusing me of doing something wrong when they were the ones who didn’t put a dumb sign on their dumb gate.
I ran from the scene of my crime, starting to cry now, because where was my car, where the men who had taken my car, and why had they texted me to come and then just run away before I could pay them and get my car key, resulting in me having to walk all the way to the front of the store and be tempted by a gate that makes the sound of the ugliest and most offensive iPhone alarm sound when you try to make it perform its intended function.
Like I mentioned, I was already worn down from the day and was probably going to break at some point. Loud noises and embarrassment do not help, and crying does. So I cried my way out of the store, walked the harrowing path around the store to its back, past the garden area where the gate alarm was still going off because no one in Walmart cares about me or my feelings, to find my car parked. It was unlocked, but there was no key, and NO sign of life anywhere nearby.
I cried a little more and texted Luke to ask whether the stupid Walmart car people had said anything in their little automated text message about where I could go to get my car key so I could pay them for the great job they were doing. (There was no profanity in this text, but it was all heavily implied).
I walked towards the side door to the garage, couldn’t see anyone, walked to the other side’s door, now talking to Luke on the phone and sobbing my eyes out because for some reason this was the worst thing that had ever happened to me and I was going to have to come back to the stupid Walmart the next day and that was the worst thing I could possibly think of when I could see, through the reflection of my blotchy, devastated face in the window, a twenty-something year old Walmart mechanic, looking at me like a man looks at a woman who is crying right in front of him and not even trying to hide it really.
I hung up with Luke, followed the young man through the garage and into the store to get my key. Our interaction went a little like this:
Him (frightened): Can I help you?
Me (sniffling and suddenly much less angry): I want to pick up my car keys.
Him (solemnly, as though to fulfill a dying wish): I can help you with that.
Me: Thank you.
Him: The Volkswagen Passat?
Me: *nods*
Him: Okay, here you go.
Me (very quietly, like a child asking for a hug): Can I pay please?
Him: Yes, you can. *starts to ring me up* …Are you feeling okay?
Me: I’ve just had a hard hour.
Him: I’m sorry about that…I hope your day gets better.
Me: Thank you, I really appreciate that.
It’s hard for me to remember exactly how this ended, but I guess I just walked out to my car, called Luke, and we decided to get dinner at IHOP. Because I needed some pancakes and yummy scrambled eggs.
Don’t I just look like someone who just barely recuperated from a mild episode of hysteria at Walmart?
I’ve returned to Walmart a few times this month already and had no problems. It really is a perfectly alright place.
Perhaps more important news than this trip to Walmart is the result of Luke’s CFP exam! I believe I briefly mentioned his preparation for the exam in my last letter, but to refresh your memory (and so as not to assume that I have a consistent audience): the Certified Financial Planner (CFP) designation is one that Luke has been preparing for over the last few months, as he saw it as his next big step forward in pursuit of his chosen career. The test was made up of two three-hour segments and he took it on a computer in a testing center in Lehi.
He took three practice tests in the two weeks leading up to the exam, each giving him a score climbing closer to 70% as he got closer to the exam. When asked how each of these exams went, he replied, “Well, fine I think. There is no official passing grade, so I really can’t know for sure.”
Which would probably have driven me crazy, but I’m glad that he wasn’t terribly nervous going in.
Like many important tests, the CFP exam covers a lot of material. I won’t pretend what all of the categories are, but from what Luke was saying, there were a couple of areas that he was very well-prepared for just by nature of working as a financial advisor at PROFi over the last several months, and other areas that he had little-to-know practical knowledge of before he began studying specifically for his CFP.
Luckily, he is very diligent when he wants to be and a ravenous consumer of finance YouTube videos, so he made up the distance. He passed his exam!
His work celebrated him the following day with a cute little cake with a message that they had ordered before knowing the results of his exam. The result was this adorable, more-conciliatory-than-not cake that I got to finish off at home.
One of my favorite parts of the week before his exam were the supportive text messages from our families.
Luke and I have noticed that our families generally show support and care in different ways from one another. I think our separate group chats have indicated certain differences. Luke was incredulous when, for example, all of my siblings sent different variations of, “I’m so sorry, Mommy <3,” when Mom shared that she had a frustrating physical therapy appointment.
“All of the responses were textbook empathy,” he said, to which I replied, “Well, what am I supposed to say? ’Stiff upper lip?’ Nothing at all?”
Alternatively, when we were at Luke’s grandparents’ home for Easter, Luke got a little cut on his finger during the festivities. His brother saw the cut and said, “Awww poor baby Luke got a cut on his fingy. Do you need a bandaid, Lukie Pookie?”
And when Luke asked his grandma for a bandaid, she said the exact same thing in the same playful, teasing way his brother said it.
Honestly, it’s a pretty reasonable response. I got a chuckle out of picturing my own family’s responses to the same situation, however, and saying about the same thing but completely sincerely.
Here are the Wonnacott family’s encouragements as Luke approached the CFP exam:
Whether he passed because of various praying strategies or because of his own preparation, we’ll never know, but it seems like everyone involved put in the right amount of effort.
My way of celebrating Luke was flying to Missouri the next afternoon. This being my second trip away from Luke since our marriage, I was a little sad to go, but excited all the same to see one of my closest friends get married to a guy I don’t know well but can’t help but like.
I flew in Thursday night, took an Uber to the bachelorette party, got a ride to the groom’s family’s massive air b&b, went to the sealing the following morning, rode with the bride’s parents to the luncheon/reception venue (a stake center), and then flew out the following morning. It was a tiring time, but a lovely one, and I’m glad I got to spend all of the time with Victoria that I did.
Because it was in Missouri (the groom’s home state) any friends of Victoria flew in at her invitation, which usually means a fairly intimate bridesmaid group. I was impressed, however, at just how many people were able to come to support her! It was such a pleasure to be with so many people who loved Vika and to see how grateful she was to have friends there. I love her so dearly and it meant a lot to see her at such a special time of her life.
I was especially glad when she decided to come back with me and her friend, Rachel, to our air b&b and spend the night on our bed with us. I think I’ll remember it for a long time, the three of us just lying on our backs on a huge bed, chatting the night before Victoria’s wedding. I’m not sure what we talked about, but it was precious.
I’ve said it before and I hope I’ll always feel this way: there is something special about friendships between women.
I didn’t take many pictures during the trip, but I’m sure she got plenty. This is what I have, and it probably makes me happier than it will make you:
I know they aren’t the classiest venues, but I personally enjoy a good cultural hall wedding reception.
Oh, and Luke and I had pho for the first time this month. We stumbled upon the restaurant that gave us the experience during one of our dates that includes simply walking down center street and seeing what catches our eye. The pho was delicious, proving the dinner-locating technique to be much more effective than my movie-selection process, which involves an hour and a half of watching those little movie-trailer snippets that play while you hover over it in a streaming service, showing you all of the movie’s good parts so you don’t have to watch the movie itself.
Luke likes our center street date much more than he enjoys my movie scrolling, and as a result looks much happier when we’re out to dinner.
I wrote most of this letter on a plane headed for Maryland. Besides my mission, this has been the first summer I’ve spent away from home, and I am unspeakably excited to see my family again.
If I remember to, I’ll write about the Willis family reunion next month! Since I’m starting school as soon as I return, it’s possible that I’ll forget all about it. Prayers are always welcome and appreciated!
Love you all,
Sophie
Senior Contributor to The Famlet Monthly