It’s so nice to be missed!


By Vicki Scott

Our recent mission trip Guatemala has my bones screaming for mercy as we try to resume our chaotic side of normal.

I must have turned into a wimp or something, because my husband Alan has not missed a beat since our return. My batteries need replacing while his seem to be brand new. Unexpectedly, many people missed us when we were gone, including several people I wouldn’t have thought would miss us.

Alan and I take dulcimer lessons on Mondays and missed the first lesson of the second unit. One of the ladies in our senior exercise group who also takes lessons she said that with me not present, her playing was noticed more and thus corrected. I told her it sounded like she missed me, and she said, “Yes, I did!” I laughed and promised to be at our next lesson when our teacher can resume constantly correcting me. Note: said teacher is good at correcting without giving me a complex. I like that.

This past Monday night was our second oldest grandchild’s last softball game. We loaded up our son and his family then headed to Wetumpka. I’m not sure if we were missed by family members, but I sure missed them. All of them greeted me with long and endearing hugs that put a pep in my step.

Last Tuesday was our monthly Gathering of the Hummingbirds, otherwise known as our senior luncheon. Afterwards, we played Guatemala Bingo, which I engineered by using key words from our Guatemala trip to fill the squares. When I called out the key words, the players could cross it out on their card while I shared information about our trip. Some of the prizes were from Guatemala, like coffee and hummingbirds handmade from beads. I later learned that some people ordered extra beaded hummingbirds. I am glad they liked them but disappointed that I did not buy enough for everyone who wanted one. I personally thought they were cute, but I didn’t think that everyone else would agree.

Wednesday was exercise class/clogging lessons and helping with the Wednesday Night Meal. When I first considered going on the Guatemala mission trip, I started using Duolingo to sharpen my Spanish. Along with this, I learned that “Jefe” meant “boss” in Spanish. Since then, I’ve been calling the lady in charge of Wednesday night meals“Jefa,” which is a female boss. The lady who helped the main lady apologized for not calling her that, because the first thing Ms. Jefa said was that she missed me not calling her Jefa. I told them that I called the kitchen help in Guatemala Jefa 1 and Jefa 2.

Thursday, Friday and Saturday were pretty much a blur but on Sunday morning I read a Facebook post from a lady I friended from Guatemala saying that they do not know who the Jefa is now. I laughed while I got ready for church, where everyone we met welcomed us back. After we sat down in our usual spot, the couple sitting in front of us let us know how much they missed us. That made my day!

After the service, several of our church men served breakfast. When I was in line for food and minding my own business, one of the Jefes who went on the Guatemala trip came from the back of the kitchen and jokingly told his wife to get on to me because I called him names in Guatemala!

I must prepare myself to be corrected in dulcimer lessons. Our teacher has already texted me about the start time. The dulcimer is supposed to be the easiest instrument to learn to play, so I guess I am doomed to be continually corrected.

Vicki Scott may be contacted at

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