A Childhood Memory of My Father

 

for my father — a childhood memory….


Late morning silhouette:
unwelcome shadows,
purple grey subtlety
suffocate the sun
I am befuddled by the silence,
absence of laughter,
ordinary talk,
the smile on my mother’s face —

Sunday respite away from home,
a town where my father was born, we would
spend hours at Aunt Andrea’s house
until the sunset bid farewell
and the gas lamps gave light along with fireflies
and the crickets chirped on.

I was a little child less than school age
in pigtails and petticoats
wondering where my father went that day
for I longed for his strong presence
amidst this baffling purple silhouette —

I crossed the pebbled country road,
climbed up a stunted hill
to Grandma’s house and I found
my father weeping,
hunched under a native fruit tree,
mournful violin strings uncontrollable,
relentless rivulets of tears cascade
for a brother to be buried,
at height of youth,
poisoned
at a town feast the week before
a chef’s senseless blunder —

Wide brown eyes watched in wonder,
my little child’s heart cried at his distress and he
looked back and beheld his daughter,
his countenance contorted in grief softening,
and slowly the mournful music lulled
as he staggered to where I stood
and my father held my hand
and he and I chased the purple shadows out of the morning
as we walked down the hill
along with life and the sunlight.

© 2012 by D. G. Vachal, revised 2021

* photography by Аркадий Деев

29 thoughts on “A Childhood Memory of My Father”

      1. Thank you, I have no idea what I do on that website but ever since I’ve changed it I get that – I’ll go back and check the workings -thanks for the heads up

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  5. This is a sad one Dee – beautifully written but heart weeping. I was reluctant to tick “like” but did so – I think you know what I mean. Much love and peace coming your way from Singapore, Eric

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  7. Dearest Dee, I weep with you now as I would have with you then………. There are no words that could mask the sorrow or fade the love. ~ Always, Bobbie

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  8. Being a father with two daughters, i was moved so much in my heart at the moments that you captured! Moments like those might never be repeated again. I cry often when happy, sad, or a happy ending on a movie or just listening to a good song, or reading a good poem and i am not afraid to show what i feel! This moment is so priceless and i have lived it before! My heart is lifted in certain a certain joy that will never dissipate over the years…your poem keeps the flame ignited!! Thanks for sharing that precious moment of love!

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    1. Thank you so much, Wendell for sharing your beautiful thoughts and experiences on being a father. I wish you a very Happy Father’s Day! Abundant blessings be upon you on this special day! Dee

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  11. The sight of this photo actually gave me a psychic shiver. Then I read you poem aloud with tears in my eyes and had to struggle to get the last words out. This is a very special poem. Thank you. Shelley

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    1. Hi Cindy, yes I do remember your tribute to your Dad, and I can see clearly in my mind’s eye the photograph of you and your Dad together. Precious moments indeed. Thank you, Cindy. I am happy the poem about my Dad touched you.

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