My Cousin Jerry Coburn

My 66 year old cousin died today of a massive heart attack. I have not been close to this cousin in many years but I am still very close to the childhood experiences we shared up and down the dusty road that ran up the short branch of Wolfe Creek to the head of the hollar where the old farm house stood. It was where my Daddy, Lunda Potter was born and where my Aunt Piney made Jerry and me breakfast in front of the old wood burning cook stove in the kitchen. Jerry was the youngest of my Aunt Piney and Uncle Jay's children. His older brother, Ernie taught me how to blow bubbles and tie my shoes. It was my cousin Hazel, their older sister that I slept with in the big front bedroom. In the early morning the fire would go out and the room would be cold so I would move closer to Hazel to keep warm and later my Aunt Piney would bring a heated brick wrapped in a small towel to put at out feet while she made a new fire.

Ernie knew how to make marbles from flinty stone by grinding it in circles as he pressed it against a smooth place in the sandstone, sometimes it let us help grind the sharp edges of the stone.

Jerry didn't go to school very much after the forth grade. He was sick a lot and didn't hear very well. One time he was in the Kings Daughter's hospital in Ashland, Ky with Rheumatic Fever. They didn't allow children to go up to the room but I stood in the grass in front of the big hospital while Jerry waved out the window at me. Jerry loved old dogs and would sit in the corn crib with me and play until Uncle Jay made helped us out there and directed our energy elsewhere. We had another cousin, Tivis, that played with us. Tivis was swift of foot but short of fuse. Jerry was wise about the short comings of other people, it was as if being slower in some ways made him listen more carefully; sometimes giving him an edge over the two of us.

Tivis, Jerry, and I ran wild over hill and dale, never breaking faith with each other, so how is it that the history of our childhood which was the same story of happy birthday cakes on which the icing of our lives topped so much sweetness, is now gone?

My dear sweet cousin Jerry, I missed you a long time before you died but just now remember that I did.

We wore the day in fields of clover

Above the trees, around the bend

where winds of play could be heard

And we alone knew Red Rover.

Our summer we dressed in rags

while gypsy dogs and cats quieted

for fear the hay was dancing

and the corn husk were laughing.

The years threw out promises

And the old barn was torn down

while crows swooped down on the corn.

and fireless winters were born.

So we dropped in our easy chairs and died.

Our hearts out in the country

the wind still in our minds

and the smile you left, a whisper.