My Kid Brother

My youngest brother, Andrew, was born six weeks after I graduated from high school. I moved into my first apartment before he was six months old and left for my mission when

he was three.

This is my favorite picture of him from that time. He is asleep on the kitchen floor with a spoon in his hand. Mom said that he wanted ice-cream and cried himself to sleep demanding it. Unfortunately, that's how I've always remembered him- my kid brother, forever 3 years old in my mind.

This weekend, we had the opportunity to go to San Antonio to watch Andrew graduate from Basic Military Training in preparation for his service in the Air National Guard. That's him, directly behind the flag-bearer, first row- all the way on the left because he was an "Element Leader." It was surreal to see him marching with his flight, being congratulated by his fellow airmen for earning four commendation "ribbons," to be thanked by the public for his service.

That image of the three-year-old is gone, replaced by a dignified, respectful, mature young man. He is an amazing uncle- cool enough to still know Pokemon, responsible enough to respond in an emergency (more on that later) and patient enough to respond to Lucy's calling him "Uncle David" all weekend. (Give her a break. She's got a boatload of uncles to remember.) I'm so glad we had the opportunity to see his graduation and spend time with him.

Congratulations, Andrew! We're proud of you!

(Mom, this picture is for you. We thought you might like some proof.)