The day I almost cried

I haven't cried in a long time. The last time was 4-5 years ago when Sneakers, my beloved dog, died. I ask a moment of silence to all those who read this for Sneakers. She was everything a young Chad could ask for in a dog. In my dreams I see her running to me and her greeting me with all of her love like she has done so many times before when I make it to heaven. I hope that I make it to heaven for that reason alone. Sneakers is not the topic of today's writing though. I probably won't ever write much about her because there are no words that I could write that would give her the justice she deserves.

The reason of writing today is that I came very close to crying today. Actually the closest I've ever been to crying since that sad day. My eyes clouded over and were extremely misty, but because I was in the Merrill-Cazier Library at Utah State University, I didn't let a tear escape. I became very emotional though. I was browsing on Google Earth and looking at different places in Logan Canyon where I could go this summer on hikes and camping and I thought it would be cool to look at the place of my mission which was Sao Paulo, Brasil. It was a lot of fun looking at the different places I served. I came across my second to last area Pirituba. So, I went to find the house of my favorite person in the world. Fransisco. Also known as Peba. That man is the greatest. We would go to his house every day after lunch and I've never been happier than in his presence. He would play guitar for us and we'd talk for a long time. Then we'd teach him the gospel. It was great. He was great. And even though he was never baptized I still love him so much. Much more than I ever thought I could love an older man who smoked and was dirty in his ways. He was a trucker for the good part of his life and he was very much like a trucker. I could go on forever writing about him, so I'll stop it before I have a novel written. 

Anyways. I started thinking about this and I literally started misting up. To avoid the scene of a grown 22 year old man crying in the college library I stopped looking at where his house was set in the hills of the Marilac Favela. So instead I searched for a video of him singing and playing guitar for us and starting watching it. Bad idea for my misty eyes, but it turns out I have deep eyes that can soak up a lot of mist and that is what I did. I didn't shed a tear, but I came very close. Fransisco will be a man that I won't ever forget. I love him. Hopefully I can be with him again someday. Then in the eternities I may have Sneakers by my side while listening to Fransisco play his guitar for me. I'm almost tearing up again writing about this so I must stop before Logan, who is by my side watching TV, has reasons to tease me. Thank you Sneakers and thank you Fransisco. You two will forever be in my heart.

Fransisco