Happy Father’s Day

Weekends, my dad plowed
through paperwork, pruned trees,
tinkered with the mower, fixed
bicycles, toasters, skinned knees.
I never thanked him.

Dark winter mornings,
I’d wake to hail pinging
on the window and find
him gone for work.

My long silence followed his
late nights at the legislature,
his eternal naval reserve weeks.
Well I knew, well I learned,
of love’s endless, lonely hours.

Notes: Happy Father’s Day to my dad, to whom I dedicate the above poem, My Long Silence, and for whom my appreciation grows and grows now that I’m parenting myself. Happy Father’s Day to my husband. And to all the many wonderful dads out there. I wrote this after reading Robert Hayden’s wonderful poem:

Those Winter Sundays
— Robert Hayden

Sundays too my father got up early
And put his clothes on in the blueblack cold
Then with cracked hands that ached
From labor in the weekday weather made
Banked fires blaze. No one ever thanked him.

I’d wake and hear the cold splintering, breaking.
When the rooms were warm, he’d call,
And slowly I would rise and dress,
Fearing the chronic angers of that house,

Speaking indifferently to him
Who had driven out the cold
And polished my good shoes as well.
What did I know, what did I know
Of love’s austere and lonely offices?

16 thoughts on “Happy Father’s Day”

Reblogged this on By the Mighty Mumford and commented:
YOWZA. YOWZA

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Excellent, Brenda.

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Brenda Davis Harsham says:

June 21, 2021 at 7:59 pm

Thanks, Suzanne.

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After reading your poems, I found myself thinking of all the ways my Dad loved me and his family, that I did not comprehend at the time, did not appreciate. Now, I have children, and they can not understand or appreciate the depth of love and sacrifice either–and it helps to remember I was the same way. As they have their own children, they will look afresh at their past and realize, they are the beloved.

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Brenda Davis Harsham says:

June 21, 2021 at 5:10 pm

Yes, I hope that is true. We all need to learn bit by bit, and we can’t ever comprehend the whole. It’s a blessing, really, that we take so much for granted. The weight of gratitude would be too much to bear. My best to you and yours.

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- katiesencouragementforyou says:
  
  June 21, 2021 at 11:06 pm
  
  I have never thought about it like that–that it is a blessing to be obtuse. 🙂 However, I think you are right–like all things in life–we need to grow into them. 🙂
  
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  - Brenda Davis Harsham says:
    
    June 23, 2021 at 5:02 pm
    
    🙂
    
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I enjoyed learning about your dad through your poem, and feel your longing for him through those long silences of his toil. Thanks for sharing the Hayden poem too. Hope you and your family are well Brenda, xo.

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Brenda Davis Harsham says:

June 21, 2021 at 5:08 pm

Thank you for reading. He was always a busy man. These days he is busy with Fox news. Sadly.

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