Category: Non Fiction

Happy Mother’s Day Moms

On By Jerry BrothertonIn Non Fiction, Short Stories2 Comments

I’ve said this a thousand times and still I can never say it enough. Being a mother is the hardest and most thankless job there is and yet they do it for free.

In my mother’s eyes, “the needs of the family would always outweigh the needs of the one.” After all the bills were paid, the groceries bought and safely stored away in their larders, you might see her in the store, eyeing that new dress, or new pair of shoes or whatever items that she would have like to have. She would even go so far as to pick it up, turn it over in her hands and possibly even put it in her cart. But by the time she left the store, it would still be setting on the shelf. Because, in her words she could get by with what she had. Besides, one of the kids might need something between now and next payday.

I think that most mothers are pretty much the same. So this is why we have a special day set aside just for them. So pick up the phone, give them a call. They don’t want fancy presents or flowers. They just want you to tell them you love them.

Trust me one day you’ll wake up and find that there’s no phones in heaven.

 

Starry, Starry Night

On By Jerry BrothertonIn Non Fiction, Short StoriesLeave a comment

Driving down country roads. Rocks and rubber singing in harmony. Rows of brown corn flash by and disappear behind us. You tune the radio and the melodies form images in our brains. We’re ready to Drift Away on the Midnight Train to Georgia. Your Killing Me Softly with your closeness. I whisper Give Me a Little Love, you sing Dream On. Later, lying on the hood, the warmth from the engine against our backs we stare at the stars in the sky as they dance to the rhythm of Diamond Girl. The radio croons Let’s Get it On.

Surface

On By Jerry BrothertonIn Non Fiction, Short Stories3 Comments

“You don’t know what lies in wait beneath the surface of the water but if you want to swim in the lake, you have to jump in.”

Take the chance, because the reward is worth the risk. Whatever your dreams may be, quit just reading about it and do it.

Memories

On By Jerry BrothertonIn Non Fiction, Short Stories1 Comment

“Memories are the glue that holds a family together”

I could probably sum up the whole damn thing with one sentence. We are the Brothertons and there was a passel of us for sure.

From Arlie and Sylvia’s commitment to each other, 15 of us pushed and shoved our way into the world and you either loved us or hated us. Sometimes you admired us and other times prayed for the day that we would have our “come to Jesus” moment.

Among my many other faults, I am the youngest boy of the clan. I suppose the older ones loved me enough…when they cared to think of me at all. Mostly, I was just a passing thought. “Oh him, that’s just my little brother, don’t pay any mind to him and he’ll go away. I grew up with a myriad of names…brat, punk, kid, baby…but legally I was named Jerry. Or, when my mother or father believed I was in the wrong…Jerry Wayne Brotherton, get your ass in here…NOW.

However things went, my little sister and I just never seemed to catch up to the rest of the family. You see, when we had just entered our most impressionable years, we were plucked up from the beloved town of Wakenda and plopped down in another story altogether. So we would sit around and listen to all the stories, jokes and folklore about the old town like it was a shrine or something. Hell the entire town was wiped off the face of the earth in a flood so we couldn’t even go back and try to recover what we had missed. Sometimes it feels like we just never quite belonged.

So take every opportunity with your friends and family to make as many memories as you can. After all, what glue holds a family together better than the memories they share?

A Morning in Carroll County

On By Jerry BrothertonIn Non Fiction, Short Stories12 Comments

The valley lay in peaceful slumber under the comforting blanket of a warm night. The clear summer sky was filled with thousands of tiny flecks of light that danced against a deep blanket of black. As the eastern horizon brightened, beginning a slow transformation into dawn, those stars that had dominated the night with their brilliance, slowly faded… withdrawing back into the heavens. Surrendering themselves to the encroaching dawn.

So slight was the change that it came almost without notice. Looking at them there appeared to be no movement at all. But a simple glance away for just a few moments and you’d find that entire galaxies had dimmed or disappeared completely. As the darkness leached from the sky and morning began to shift; first black to gray…then pale blue…finally into cobalt as night yielded to the encroaching dawn.

Slowly the sun pulled itself over the wooded hilltops and splashed the sky with a dazzling array of color. It burned away the swirling fog that had crept up from the river and filled gullies, ditches, and hovered over ponds and fields. As the ghostly mist evaporated it exposed to the world those hidden places with forgotten names like Long Tater Hill, Low Gap, Bunch Hollow, Rabbit Island and Wakenda.

The coming dawn brought to life a sea of green that swirled and rolled in the soft morning breeze. The vast fields of corn, wheat, soybeans, and alfalfa stretched out from the banks of the Missouri River to touch the horizon. Each tiny drop of moisture that dangled from the tips of their leaves reflected the beauty of the sunrise.

Cows grazing in rich emerald pastures looked up with tender shoots of sweet clover dangling from their mouths. They felt the sun…it warmed their blood and sent small wisps of steam rising from their backs. The sun had witnessed this scene countless times before and did not linger to enjoy the serenity of the moment. It moved on uncaring. But for me the scene will remain frozen in my memory…I weep for all who have never known such joy.