Elder William F. Jett

I've been up since four this morning--Liz woke up screaming; she's teething, poor lady! As I've already told you about Julia a month ago, I'm going to tell you about my brother Bill.
Bill and I are only sixteen months apart in age. When he was born, I was very jealous of him because I was no longer the sole focus of my parents. I even tried killing him a few times! Once, I grabbed a pencil and shoved it at his eye--he still has a scar above his right eye. Another time, my mom was on the phone with a friend from Ecuador when she noticed it got very quiet all of a sudden. She went to Bill's room to investigate and found me in the crib, pouring baby powder all over Bill! He was coughing his lungs out and he looked like a little old man! I stole his bottle whenever I could to drink it for myself. It's a miracle he made it out alive and healthy!
Speaking of living, Bill often found ways to injure himself without my help. My friend Kelly and I were playing house on our second story back porch when Bill approached us and dutifully informed us that he was Superman and he was going to fly. We just looked at him and whoosh! Off he jumped to the ground below. I ran down the stairs of the house crying, "Bill just killed himself!" My parents flew out the front door and found Bill on the ground, rolled up in a ball. He stood up, shook himself out, and said, "I'm okay." He's gotten stitches three times, two times of which were on the roof of his mouth. When he was seven, Bill rode my mom's tall adult bike, fell off, and gave himself a "hole" in his head--a rock pierced through his forehead.
Despite all the accidents and adventures he had in his youth, Bill has turned out to be a very mellow kind of guy. Nothing fazes him--nothing. Bill doesn't get rushed, worried, or anxious; it's simply not in his nature to be those things. In grade school, I would be ready for school about thirty minutes before we actually had to leave while Bill was still sleeping. I would be so furious with him! He would step into the shower when we were supposed to be driving to school and I would be more than upset. Later, in high school, I would fret about the last paragraph of my nearly-finished paper three weeks before its due date while Bill began his research papers the morning they were due. He always had everything turned in on time and he always got decent grades! I don't think he ever brought a textbook home from school during his four years at Wildwood Catholic.
He made it out to BYU with a scholarship and plenty of

Liz is up--I'll be back--
Now it's Thursday. We've had a rough day and a half. Lizzie had a high fever and was completely miserable. We took her to a nighttime pediatrics place who couldn't find anything wrong with her. Yesterday morning we took her to what will now be our pediatrician. Apparently there is something going around that will spike fevers, nothing else. Poor lady. It breaks my heart to see her in pain because she is such a happy girl and is always smiling. Today she seems better, so we're praying she'll be better as soon as possible.

Continuing with my brother, he was accepted to BYU and went out for a summer term to get more schooling in before his mission. He completed the term as well as a fall semester (2007) and a winter semester (2008). Bill had his mission papers ready and planned to work as long as he could in the summer before he left for the MTC. I remember getting the phone call while we were still in Texas--he had received his mission call. Chris and I were hanging off the edge of the couch and then he read where he would be serving: The Colombia Barranquilla Mission. My heart was so full of joy! My brother would be serving in South America, just as my parents had over twenty years ago.

We moved back to Utah just before he was to report to the MTC, and when he did report, it was both wonderful and sad. Wonderful because we knew what he was doing was right and he would be blessed for it; sad because this would be the last time we would see him or hear his voice for a very long time. I shouldn't have worried too much though--we happened to "see" each other at the Provo Temple every other week before he finally left for Barranquilla :)

When I think of Bill, I have the inclination to smile and to shake my head because Bill is Bill. I've been thinking about Bill these past few days because we were able to speak to him on Sunday (Mother's Day). His colombian-drenched Spanish now rolls off his tongue with the ease I hope to capture sometime in my life. His weeks are filled with baptisms; his Sundays are filled with investigators attending church; his days are filled spiritual inspirations and teachings of the gospel of Jesus Christ.




Five years ago this July I attended SOAR at BYU. SOAR stands for Summer of Academic Refinement and is open to Multicultural high school students who are interested in attending BYU. Bill attended SOAR before his senior year at Wildwood Catholic, buying his plane ticket a few days before and packing the morning of his flight--customary Bill. Before going to SOAR, I always knew he would go to BYU and go on a mission, but he had never been outwardly vocal about those things. When he came back from his week at SOAR, this changed. Much of what he talked about contained references to his pending BYU application and his future mission.




Growing up in our toddler/kid/early adolescent years, Bill and I often fought. Once he joined me at Wildwood Catholic (he a freshman, me a junior), we became good friends and I am very glad for that friendship. Bill continues to show me that life is fun and that it should be enjoyed. Exasperating as he can be at times, Bill has the unique ability to make you feel comfortable, cherished, and crazed all at the same time. I miss him very much as he serves in Colombia, but I would not have it any other way.