Little Brother

Jun 2, 2009 by Naomi.

Today my youngest brother would be 80 years old. He died in 1993. He and his wife, Jean came to live at my house in 1992 in their 50 foot trailer for several months. Emil put up a six-foot high cedar board fence on the west side of the house to enclose my back yard. Ron had installed a 4 foot wire fence twenty years earlier. Emil did a number of other things most of which I have forgotten.

Anyway he and I were more than 5 years younger than Ruth and James. We played together a lot after he managed to walk around without diapers. Mostly Emil followed me around before I started school and was a willing accomplice in playing house. I wrote a poem about what we did. In loving memory here it is…

LITTLE BROTHER

We talked when together my brother and I

How we laid in the grass and looked at the sky

Clouds illustrated rhymes Mama would read

A dog with a spoon or the Banbury steed

Time passed and the shapes were no more

When I was six and my brother was four.

We’d crawl under the spruce out by the barn

To watch the nest and hear the bird mourn

The soft needles cradled us and we felt cool

Late in the day when I came home from school

There was nothing to do, not one little chore

When I was six and my brother was four.

We cooled in the rain barrel under hot sun

Drove away in a jacked car when we were done

Curled up in a tire, Sis rolled us downhill

Scary but thrilling, I remember it still

We fell and got dirty right down to the core

When I was six and my brother was four.

While Mama and Daddy milked Brownie and Nellie

Each sat on a stool, heads braced on the belly

Milk stung in the pail until it was full

And filling a pail took many a pull

We cuddled soft kittens on the barn floor

When I was six and my brother was four.

When the handle turned faster skim milk would pour

Out of the separator into the pail on the floor

Foam would rise up like clouds in the sky

Mama put it in bowls for brother and I

With sugar we called it ice cream, we were poor

When I was six and my brother was four.

Now I sit alone and stare at the wall

And reflect with regret one act I recall

The time that a hammer came down on his head

I was spanked but he did the crying instead

I mourn because we can talk no more

About when I was six and my brother was four.

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