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The Weight of a Father

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I. The Smell of Sawdust

On bawling-brother, busy-mother days,
The saint who slew the dragons in her dream
Whisked her through the fuss-and-fluster maze
To realms where fathers shine and daughters beam.
She watched the magic hands that hugged her tight
At one with wood. He sawed and shaped until
His wizard skill—his mastery and might
For crafting beauty sparked her steely will
To seek the dazzle in the drear of now,
To find the marvel in the mournful week,
To conjure fun; her hero showed her how
To buckle down and blaze on through the bleak.
These dad-less days she draws upon his gift—
One sniff of sawdust gives her world a lift.

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II. A Taste of Home

He lives a deep and seething sea away
With rafts of moons between the rift and now.
His daughter’s raven hair is granite gray.
His grasp is weak. His grudges crease his brow.
She knows he’ll never soften and set sail
On waves she’s braved to reach his hardened heart.
To meet halfway is fortune set to fail
When livid skies keep smarting souls apart.
On chilly nights when sorrow drowns in sleep,
Her wishes swirl and surface in a dream…
He smiles at her, his boldest, blackest sheep
Leaping through the Kentish leas of green;
The ocean shrinks to puddle-jumping size
As tides of joy rise in her father’s eyes.

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Susan Jarvis Bryant is a poet originally from the U.K., now living on the Gulf Coast of Texas.

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30 Responses

  1. Mark Stellinga

    No ‘favorite’ today, Susan – both, as expected, are SJB-wonderful! Watching high school kids play football & baseball are just two of my many ‘father-remembering’-inducers. Seeing him cheering for me in the bleachers hasn’t faded in the least and never will. How inspiring so much of your work is. Thanks for these 2 timely gems –

    Reply
    • Susan Jarvis Bryant

      Mark, thank you very much for your lovely comment. It makes me very happy to know that my poem has you tapping into those precious memories that (I believe) gain in value as we grow older and wiser. It’s great to hear that because of these unforgettable moments, your father will always be cheering you on!

      Reply
  2. Roy Eugene Peterson

    My dad’s hobby was woodworking with which your nostalgic evocative poem brought back the feel of finely sanded wood and smells of sawdust from various wood species. This was perfect for Father’s Day. Then the wishing to “puddle-jump” over the “seething sea” and once again see smiles and to know how much one means to their father is so heartwarming and endearing.

    Reply
    • Russel Winick

      “To seek the dazzle in the drear of now.” How do you do that, Susan – over and over? Amazing! How wonderful that you are blessed with such memories.

      Reply
      • Susan Jarvis Bryant

        Russel, that line was prompted by a father whose golden guidance continues to this day. I believe all my poetry comes from a place of joy, pain, and purpose… I think you may draw from the very same well when you gift us with your mellifluous morsels of poetic magic.

    • Susan Jarvis Bryant

      Roy, how wonderful to hear carpentry features highly in your memories of your father too. There’s something rather beautiful about wood – the pattern of the grain, the swirl of the knots, the fresh and earthy scent – and when it’s in the hands of one who understands its intricacies and burns to create, little miracles occur. My dad built my brother and me a large summerhouse with all the furniture we needed to have our own special place to play… and even though that summerhouse no longer features in my life, the love my father built it with will never fade. Roy, thank you!

      Reply
  3. Warren Bonham

    I had the same experience as Roy with a father who loved working with wood. He typically used a set of tools given to him by his father. None of them plugged into an electrical outlet. As a result, there was a good deal more sweat than there needed to be. I always enjoyed “helping” him but was never able to cut a straight line with a handsaw or bang in a nail without bending it over. Somehow, despite these challenges, the projects always turned out perfectly. The smell of sawdust still brings back this gift.

    Reply
    • Susan Jarvis Bryant

      Warren, thank you for sharing this relatable memory. I believe those of us who have seen the sweat dripping from our father’s brow before the soothing buzz of electricity, gained the important lesson of appreciation – gratitude for all those gizmos and gadgets that bring relief to back-breaking chores. Having seen my grandmother on washday toiling away with sweat rolling down her cheeks, I am so thankful for my washing machine – I know the brutality of a washboard and mangle… memories I draw upon when complaining about emptying the drier.

      Reply
  4. Isabella

    These two poems are absolutely beautiful. The collective title is perfect, and both poems are a lovely nostalgic tribute on father’s day.

    Reply
    • Susan Jarvis Bryant

      Isabella, you have made me smile. I am thrilled you felt the beauty in my nostalgic words… I felt it when I was writing… all down to my dad.

      Reply
  5. Joseph S. Salemi

    This pair of sonnets deals with a daughter’s deep love for and childhood memories of her dad, along with an acknowledgment of their later alienation, and her dream of a reconciliation that she senses will never happen. The poems are both pleasant, though tinged with sadness. The first is about cherished memories that are now poignant, while the second takes some solace in the imagination of what might be, but never will be.

    As sonnets they are perfectly constructed, with Susan’s signature alliteration and internal rhyme, all linked in tight enjambment.

    Reply
    • Susan Jarvis Bryant

      Joe, it pleases me to know that my message is clear. I find the closer one is to the subject matter, in an emotional sense, the more difficult it is to maintain clarity. You are spot on with your interpretation. Thank you!

      Reply
    • Susan Jarvis Bryant

      jd, thank you so very much for your kind words of appreciation. I’m so glad you enjoyed my Father’s Day offering.

      Reply
  7. Yael

    This is an outstanding Father’s Day poem Susan. You have managed to explore the depth of the good and evil which exists in every father-daughter relationship in a way which is uplifting without being painfully sweet and sentimental, and realistic without being glumly depressing. This takes skill and wisdom! Great job as usual and I’m thankful for the reading experience. Shout-out to Evan for the amazing picture match!

    Reply
    • Susan Jarvis Bryant

      Yael, your words have moved and elated me. This was a tough subject, and you have astutely and very kindly let me know I’ve hit the right notes – this poet wasn’t too sure when standing too close with tears in her eyes. And YES! – that glorious picture Evan chose highlights my words so perfectly, it feels as if the second sonnet is an ekphrastic. Yael and Evan, thank you very much indeed!

      Reply
  8. Brian Yapko

    Susan, this pairing of sonnets is a beautiful offering for Father’s Day – one which details the nostalgic, sentimental memory of the secure love a child receives and reciprocates from the dad who is her hero; the second which details the present state of a painful estrangement with that same hero.

    In “Sawdust,” I love the psychological truth of zeroing in on a small memory associated with smell which brings the moments of childhood joy right back to the speaker. This reminds me of a bittersweet song “The Leader of the Band” by Dan Fogelberg in which he pays tribute to his own father and uses small memories as the lyric’s building blocks. Your use of magical words is a lovely clue to how memory perceives the splendor of those uncomplicated days. If only those halcyon days could have lasted. But the poem closes on a bittersweet note: the speaker invokes the joy that the woodworking memory provides for a time which is now “dad-less.” This could speak to many situations — perhaps the father is dead; perhaps he has dementia. But that is not the story of “the weight of a father” a title which bespeaks the heaviness not of death but of estrangement.

    The “ubi sunt” nostalgia of “Sawdust” becomes achingly clear grief when read through the prism of “A Taste of Home.” Many years have passed and the speaker’s hair is now granite gray and SOMETHING HAS HAPPENED. We don’t know what that something is, but it was bridge-burning (an unspoken nautical image which connects to other aspets of this poem.) And although the speaker has tried to reach dad’s hardened heart, the reconciliation she dreams of seems like it will occur only in her dreams.

    This is such a sad yet familiar story. This father cannot possibly grasp the foolish consequence of withholding his smile from his “boldest, blackest sheep.” Talk about a universal grief! One could invoke King Lear and his delusional rejection of Cordelia. But once again, I am reminded of a sad song – this one “The Cats in the Cradle” by Harry Chapin in which a father has sabotaged a relationship with his son only to discover his own destructiveness too late to do anything about it. In the case of your poem, one retains hope that maybe it is not yet too late. In any case, the dream fantasy of reconciliation is a lovely, painful one which I hope, Susan, will manifest in reality one day. A special mention to all of the nautical imagery all tethered to the central metaphor of the Atlantic Ocean representing the parent-child schism. One is reminded that water can destroy but it can also heal. Maybe a quick visit to “The Tempest” is in order.

    I love these poems, Susan. They are well-crafted and from the heart. They made my heart hurt a little but they made me so very grateful for fond memories of my own father who has been gone these 28 years. Thank you so much for these.

    Reply
    • Brian Yapko

      And in paragraph two when I referred to “magical words” I did not mean this figuratively. I was referring to the specific images and word-choices: “dragon-slaying, magic hands, wizard skill, conjuring fun…” Beautiful Rowling-esque language which emphasizes something of a fairytale childhood.

      Reply
      • Susan Jarvis Bryant

        Brian, “magical words” is a spot on observation, and I know exactly what you mean. Thank you!

    • Susan Jarvis Bryant

      Brian, what an insightful and beautiful comment – one that is chock full of little gems for me to relish- especially the songs. It is unusual for me to suffer for my art, but this was a tough one to write. Your close reading and understanding mean a lot and I just love the term “ubi sunt” which puts me in mind of Shakespeare’s musings on mortality and life’s transience, something I am more aware of as I grow older. Cordelia’s relationship with her father is something that has always made me think long and hard, with a heavy heart. It never fails to amaze me how many families bear agonies of such magnitude. I wanted to write a Father’s Day poem that scratched the surface veneer to offer something real and relatable that is still full of love. I know these days of celebration are tough for many and saying that I believe you’re right – a quick visit to “The Tempest” is in order.

      The great thing about these sonnets is how they’ve conjured memories for others, and I’m thrilled to hear they stoked fond memories for you. Brian, thank you so very much indeed for your generosity, your encouragement, and most of all for your care.

      Reply
  9. Cynthia L Erlandson

    These two sonnets strongly evoke the contrasting emotions of loving memories and a very palpable ache at a broken relationship, perhaps provoked by a chosen geographical distance. I definitely felt the “weight” of sorrow in its description in the second sonnet.

    Reply
    • Susan Jarvis Bryant

      Cynthia, thank you very much for your kind words. I stepped out of my comfort zone with these and your encouraging comment means a lot.

      Reply
  10. Maria

    The weight of a father could be about estrangement but it could also mean that a father’s love is worth its weight in gold. Or perhaps it is both . Quite biblical in some respects.

    Reply
    • Susan Jarvis Bryant

      Maria, I thoroughly appreciate your fine eye. I thought long and hard about the title – I wanted it to reflect the weight of sadness and the weight of a father’s worth… you have made my evening. Thank you.

      Reply
  11. Dan Davis

    I read this on Father’s Day and was moved by the way you showed the past filling up the present. With all the changes and aging, saw dust is still a joy, and his daughter is still his sheep.

    Here’s a prayer that the pond will be a puddle soon! and encouragement that it will be in the light of the last days.

    Reply
    • Susan Jarvis Bryant

      Dan, what a beautiful, heartwarming, and hopeful comment. Thank you most kindly.

      Reply
  12. James Sale

    Beautiful work, Susan: especially that concluding couplet: “The ocean shrinks to puddle-jumping size
    As tides of joy rise in her father’s eyes.”

    Reply
    • Susan Jarvis Bryant

      James, I’m thrilled you enjoyed these. Thank you very much indeed for your kind words of appreciation.

      Reply
  13. Adam Sedia

    I loved reading these poems from a daughter’s perspective. A son’s relationship with his father is so different, and it’s fascinating to read about the daughter’s perspective, especially in such poignant and descriptive terms. I will keep these in mind as my own daughter grows older. Thank you.

    Reply
    • Susan Jarvis Bryant

      Adam, thank you so much for this comment. That father-daughter relationship is so special. The memories I made with my dad remain with me to this day – our time spent together has shaped the woman I am. I feel certain that your daughter is benefiting and will always benefit from a dad who can breathe wonder into the skin of a salmon with poetic words that soar to dazzling heights.

      Reply

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