My Missionary Brother

16 Mar

Last week my little brother, Chase, submitted his papers to serve an LDS mission. In a few weeks he’ll get a call to serve in a specific mission somewhere in the world. He will have a few months to prepare and then he will leave us for two years to serve the Lord. I am so proud of him. Although my favorite thing in the world to do is tease him, I couldn’t be happier that he’s doing this. I know he’s going to learn so much, grow a ton, and bless so many people in the process.

Last Sunday he came home from an interview with our stake president to take a picture to submit with his papers. Mormon missionaries are clean shaven, but Chase was not. So he took a picture and proceeded to spend the next half hour trying to Photoshop his facial hair out. I often wonder how the mind of a guy works. How is this tedious process easier than shaving, and then taking the picture?

Missionary Chase

I remember when Chase was born. I was so excited to have a little brother. I hauled him around like he was my pet. The kid even had the softest hair on the face of this planet. I remember the time he took my pink and purple baton and hit me over the top of the head with it. I also remember the time he throw a cantaloupe sized rock at my head from fifteen feet above. There was also that time he shut the car door on and accidentally killed our first kitten, Rapscallion; forever scarring me and two of my friends. Then there was that summer haying for Grandpa that he not only ran over Chet with a tractor, but he also ran over me and consequently ripped the back pockets off my jeans. After all the physical trauma he’s caused me, it’s no wonder I have such a bad memory.

Me and Dudey

Despite the fact that he’s such a pain in the behind, he fixes my computers when they’re not working (which is always), gives me advice about boys (which rarely ever works), and is kind and accepting to everyone (except our little sisters).


When he was little, probably about 1 or 2 years old, he had white blonde hair that my parents styled in a mullet (hey, it was the 80’s). He had this denim jacket that had some phrase using “Dude” on the back of it. Although it’s not very creative, it’s been his nickname every since. I’ll miss him tons, and I’m going to enjoy his laptop while he’s gone. But mostly I’ll miss him.

Love ya Dude!

*edit* My mom was not very excited to have her shampoo and conditioner on display for the world. She wanted you to know.


One Response to “My Missionary Brother”

  1. Dude March 17, 2008 at 10:10 pm #

    Haha, hey cass I like it, and my advice does too work!… ok well maybe not but i try, thats what counts right? and i like the new style of the page. Very rokthisway like. Hopefully i’ll see you soon sis,

    Love ya cass,


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: