Tag: Family

~Outdated~

On By Jerry BrothertonIn Free Verse, Poetry1 Comment

I am not made for these modern times

Missouri mud runs through my veins
unspoiled country air flows through my lungs.
my roots are intertwined in the bedrock of culture,
traditions and folklore of a pioneer Midwest

My heart beats with the rhythm
of wind through oak trees
the sway of golden wheat
the steady fall of summer rain
on metal porch roofs

My voice is the sound
of pickup trucks on gravel roads
tractors plowing through gumbo
the hoot of owls from leaning red barns.
the yip of foxes or the howl of coyotes from
across green pastures under full moon’s glow
trumpeting of a rooster greeting the day
songs of blue jays, cardinals, red wing blackbirds
caw of crows pecking through early snow
on harvested corn fields
beat of horse hooves
lazy bawling of cows

My nostril are filled with the smell of
wildflower meadows, fresh baled hay
alfalfa, soybeans, and apple blossoms

I am lightning bugs on summer’s eve
coon hounds asleep on sunlit porches
family picnics on red checkered tablecloths
horseshoes, freeze tag and kick the can

I am unlocked doors and open windows
rocking chairs and back porch swings
I am outdated

Happy Birthday to My Oldest Son…

On By Jerry BrothertonIn Non Fiction, Short Stories17 Comments

Joshua – 1977…
You probably don’t remember that day. Even for me it now seems like it was another universe. It was your first birthday. We called Fort Ord California home and, as it was with most Army families, we were as penniless as the winos down along the banks of the Salinas River. Your mother baked you a chocolate cake from a .29 cent box mix and decorated it with some homemade icing. We stripped you down to your diaper and sat you in your highchair while we sang birthday songs to you. You laughed as you crumbled your cake into oblivion.

All Aboard…

On By Jerry BrothertonIn Non Fiction, Short Stories15 Comments


It made no difference if it was a family vacation or headed to the grocery store, my mother would plan it out to the smallest detail, barking out instruction that would make any Drill Sergeant proud, while my dad checked the tires and looked under the hood. Seating arrangements created to resolve sibling conflict; snack strategically placed within her reach.
“Anyone need to go to the bathroom?”
“Everybody have their purses, money, comb?”
“Last chance because once we start moving, we aint stopping.”
After about fifteen minutes into the trip, “Shoot Arlie, I think I left the coffee pot on.”

The only truth is love…

On By Jerry BrothertonIn Free Verse, Poetry6 Comments

When my first child was born I asked him, “What role will you play in the world?”
He said to me, “I will show the world where to look for truth.”

When my second child was born I asked her, “What role will you play in the world?”
She replied, “I will teach the children to learn the truth.”

When my third child entered the world I asked him, “What role will you play in the world?”
He told me, “I will tell the world how to live their life in truth.”

When my last child was born I asked him, “What role will you play in the world?”
He answered, “I will show the world the beauty that lies in truth.”

My wife asked me, “What role did we play in the world?”
I told her, “We gave them the passion to seek the truth.”

Treasure hunting…

On By Jerry BrothertonIn Non Fiction, Short Stories4 Comments

In an attempt to normalize my retirement into something a little less complicated and chaotic, I decided it was time to do some decluttering around the old homestead. So I headed off on a mission to get rid of anything no longer useable. I scrounged around in the forgotten corners of everyday living. Pulled down old boxes hidden away on closet shelves. Rummaged through various ‘junk’ drawers filled with unrecognizable items and hauled out all those totes of neglected memories that were long ago stuffed into the darkest pits of uselessness…known as the basement and attic.

At first glance, I believed them to be just more clutter that would soon be headed for the trash container. Things like plastic bins of pens with no ink, sticky note pads that no longer had any stick and dried up colored markers that had been saved away so many years ago… because who knew when they might come in handy. Most of these were disposed of quickly. This was going to be one of those ‘honey do’ weekend tasks that I would make short work of and be done with in time to watch the ball game. 

But as I sifted through the various totes and containers, I realized that each memento once occupied the center stage of the drama we call ‘our lives’. Things that had been so important to us that they were worth lugging around the world as we moved from one house to another. There were so many memories of our past lives hiding away in those boxes and totes. Trophies that I am not sure which child won them, photographs of people whose faces I had forgotten. Pressed flowers from prom’s and weddings, half-written stories and poems, love letters sent and received.

I learned some valuable lesson buy reading those old poems and examining the faces of those people that were with us in our childhood. They all told me a story. Stories about who we were so many years ago and how we became the people we are today. So I returned each box to its former place of honor. Perhaps someday, after we have no need for mementos or memories, our grandchildren will go through all our boxes of treasures. Just maybe, they will get a little bit better understanding of who we were. I hope it brings a smile to their heart.