I grew up in a time and place that featured pretty cold winters. It was not unusual for the temperatures to dip into the teens (Fahrenheit) or even lower and stay there for days at a time. Our house had two fireplaces and the kitchen stove that all burned wood. My father would rise before daylight, even on Sundays, and get the fires started in each of them. By the time I got up, the house would be warm. I never thanked him. I never thought anything about it. It was just what he did. He was my father. I do think about it, and him, now and I regret how thoughtless and thankless I was. But what did I know then of love's austere and lonely offices?
Those Winter Sundays
by 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?
I suspect that we all have regrets of this kind in one form or another. It’s probably best not to dwell on them.
ReplyDeleteNo doubt you are right. But perhaps remembering will encourage us to be slower to judge others.
DeleteI think I took my mom and dad for granted when I was a child. My mom lit the fireplace in the morning and washed and dried our clothes (after she actually sewed all of them!) and tidied our house. Fortunately, I still can tell my dad how much I appreciate what he did for us!
ReplyDeleteSuch a wonderful poem!
I suppose all of us take our parents for granted when we are children. And why wouldn't we? They are the cornerstones that hold up our world.
DeleteI think most of us have these regrets. I do, also. My Dad raised me after my Mom died just short of me becoming a teenager, and, in turn, he died nearly 40 years ago - by the time I was old enough to realize love's austere and lonely offices, they were both gone.
ReplyDeleteHow sad that you lost your mother so early and how very difficult that must have been for your dad and you. It is fortunate that you still had him and obviously he did a very good job as a single parent regardless of the difficulties. I suspect that most of us have regrets about how we dealt with our parents when we were teenagers. Callow youth is hardly known for its wisdom or understanding of others.
DeleteThis is a poem to make us all take stock. If only I could recall the indifferent looks, the casual acceptance of everything in my life that was good, but youngsters are self-absorbed and realise, often too late, just what stalwarts their parents were.
ReplyDeleteExactly. You've stated it perfectly.
DeleteMy dad was someone who quietly went about his days taking care of the rest of us. I was so blessed to have such a good dad. I should have said thank you to him more often.
ReplyDeleteI think we probably all have some regrets in regard to that and yet if we could ask them, they would probably say that they never expected to be thanked - it was simply what one did as a parent.
DeleteThat's a great last line. I concur with what others have written. My parents did a lot but I don't think they looked for thanks. They provided and were great people.
ReplyDeleteI could say the same about my parents.
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