My father's invitation

I've shared this before, but these are still the best words I know to tell my Dad thank you.  Any honest relationship includes complicated storylines with simple love, and that's true of my Dad and me. There's no one I'd rather have for a father, and I'm proud to be his firstborn daughter. 

Happy Father's Day, Dad.  I love you!

T

My Dad and me, 1972ish

 

The Invitation

FOR MY DAD ON FATHER'S DAY*

To pull the metal hook from the fish's mouth

my father focused all attention on his catch.

I watched his puckered face and not the fish's.

With only a few finger sweeps , he’d removed

the iron sliver I thought it'd die from.

I can’t remember the words,

but hear the speechless motion, a creak

of row lock, a slap-slap of water beside us.

And I recall his hands,

two knuckled planes, one wedding band's

glint in the sun,

a flame of benediction

he raised above my head.

Had you rowed out with us that morning 

you would have thought you'd seen a man

fishing, a brown-haired girl sprawled across the bow,

book cover shielding the sun's flame.

Had you followed that boat

you would have arrived here,

where I pause at every creekbed.

Look how I search for trout, bass, bullhead

to find the ones that got away.

Watch as I scan every water field for ripples.

I was seven when my father

took me on the St. Lawrence,

and I did not fear the great steamships.

Slamming within their water wake, I did not think

Metal that will bury me,

christen our aluminum rowboat journey,

Poor Fisherman and His Daughter.

And I did not lift my face into the spray and cry,

We're going to be killed!

I did what a child does

when she’s invited into adventure. I leaned into the wind and

I trusted my father.

* adapted from a poem by LI-YOUNG LEE

St. Lawrence River, 1978