Happy Father’s Day
[NOTE: This a slightly edited version of a previous post of mine.]
It’s Father’s Day. A sort of poor stepchild to Mother’s Day, although fathers themselves are hardly that. They are central to a family.
Just ask the people who never had one, or who had a difficult relationship with theirs. Or ask the people who were nurtured in the strength of a father’s love and guidance.
Of course, the complex world being what it is, and people and families being what they are, it’s the rare father-child relationship that’s entirely conflict-free. But for the vast majority, love is almost always present, even though at times it can be hard to express or to perceive. It can take a child a very long time to see it or feel it; but that’s part of what growing up is all about. And “growing up” can go on even in adulthood, or old age.
Father’s Day—or Mother’s Day, for that matter—can wash over us in a wave of treacly sentimentality. But the truth of the matter is often stranger, deeper, and more touching. Sometimes the words of love catch in the throat before they’re spoken. But they can still be sensed. Sometimes a loving father is lost through distance or misunderstanding, and then regained.
There’s an extraordinary poem by Robert Hayden that depicts one of these uneasy father-child connections—the shrouded feelings, both paternal and filial, that can come to be seen in the fullness of time as the love that was always, always there. I offer it on this Father’s Day to all of you.
THOSE WINTER SUNDAYS
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?
Very touching, Neo. Thank you.
Which reminds me of my father’s pancakes on weekend mornings. He added extra eggs to his pancakes- the best pancakes I have ever had.
If cold enough, he had a fire blazing in the kitchen/dining room fireplace. Even with the furnace, the house was cold on winter mornings. That taught me to get dressed right out of bed, a good habit to learn.
Very touching and true post.
My Dad was a true ‘Tough Guy’ in the very best sense of the term. He died at 83 like a Samurai as there was no way he was going off to,”some place where they’ll take care of me.”
He wrote,”I’ve had a wonderful life, but I’ve come to the end of the trail.” His choice and I will honer and respect it until I pass. His Parkinson’s doctor said,”I hope he died with a fishing pole in his hand.” He darn near did. Fished for trout until 2-days before his death, April 1996.
He also wrote that,”I think that when we die, that’s it. But IF I’m wrong I don’t believe the Great Spirit will hold it against me.”
Thank God for you and Mom., Pop. Whenever Nena and I get to the Eastern High Sierras of California and I walk out into the tall pines, I can hear her laughter and you calling to Pat and me,”C’mon boys, they’re biting down by the waterfall!” The high crags and waters are where the three of you are. I always know it.
Fathers, yes, not a subset, but the substrate, the foundation of a healthy world. It is not the purpose of the foundation to be noticed, but to be strong and supportive.
I think the following somewhat captures it:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jMPvKpA0xfs&feature=related
Neoneocon,
From all of us dads—-Thanks!
I have always had tremendous respect & awe for dads who treated adopted kids or step kids like children that are biologically their own. It says alot about the man.
We (wife & I) returned a few hours ago from Montana after a 10 day trip to that beautiful, majestic state. We were in Montana because the youngest child (31) was married to a Montana girl today at 11:00 am Mountain Time Zone. Son & now daughter in-law asked me to officiate at the wedding. This is legal in Montana because it is a ‘pioneer state’, which means anyone a couple deems qualified may conduct a legal marriage ceremony. Signing their marriage certificate was a wonderful father’s day gift. Long may they run.
Parker: WOW!! Thank You for a wonderful start to the week.