Children should be seen
and not heard.
It's not that he says it with the
same conviction.
But my dad will still bring it,
like a Victorian poker chip
no one's cashing in anymore
that nonetheless, he feels compelled to play.
It's in his blood, these iron spades.
But they're not in mine--
it took years for me to flush them free--
and it's with this distance that I weigh
the lightening of a man
in his grandchildren's hands.
The generational shift
is most likely a cause
and I don't mean to pretend
that the thaw is profound, but--
There is a softening now of his hardest edges,
the wryest indication of amusement and tolerance,
as if his grandchildren's cheerfulness
and frank expectation of the same from the universe
were a land he might choose to vacation in,
before returning, a little sunburnt, to his solitude.
And even I, who in spite of his love,
feared this man for most of my life--
not for any specific unkindness
but because he seemed to expect me to
Even I, occasionally--
if I lay down my arms--
will gamble across the rusty river
on the little bridge that time built.
8 comments:
"And even I, who in spite of his love,
feared this man for most of my life--
not for any specific unkindness
but because he seemed to expect me to"
Sums up my relationship with my Dad too. I guess it was that generation. They were all soldiers, fighting for something or the other.
But my Dad feared his dad, and we just adored Grandpa. That's just the way it works it seems.
My father passed 31 years ago, the old dude never knew what he missed out on. 11 grand kids all boys except for my daughter. I doubt they would have taken much of the edge off him though just not enough time.
My father a couple of times tried to beat me senseless (or sense into me depending where you were standing) and we never had any mutual respect even when I was kid but the one thing I never did was fear the man.
I am though teaching my granddaughter to swear just like dear old grandpa! Yay Me! I really am teaching her how to be discreet, talk to her peers with one vocabulary and parents another.
I can do the same for yours Sarah.
This is lovely.
I consider myself very lucky that my own Dad is the opposite of this and that I was smart enough to learn from him.
Just found your blog through Vesper. WOW...this is some powerful writing.
It has been a tradition handed down for generations it seems. I hope my son doesn't think that way of me, and that my grandchildren will still find me wonderful.
Aniket, I know it's a common refrain. Luckily, I feel like this generation is changing the landscape of fatherhood.
Mark, I think the fear is proportional to the child's innate insecurity rather than any specific complaint with the father figure. I was an insecure kid: I wanted for his approval. I can't imagine you ever needing that from anyone.
Luckily, I have a daughter who just bulldozes her way through people's defenses. I think my dad's both taken aback and charmed by it.
Paul, I'm so glad that was the case for you. And I bet you're a great dad.
Optimistic Existentialist, thank you so much! Glad to know any friend of Vesper's. :)
Charles, I bet your son feels much differently. And I'm still deeply grateful to my dad for all the good things he instilled in me. Overall, I was a damn lucky kid.
the lightening of a man
in his grandchildren's hands.
Yes, grandchildren do that to grandparents. :-)
And this,
Even I, occasionally--
if I lay down my arms--
will gamble across the rusty river
on the little bridge that time built.
I'm glad that you end the poem this way.
Thanks, Vesper. I did want to leave it on an uplift.
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