Tuesday, August 25, 2009

On Identity


I Remember the Day

I remember the day
I realized my father wasn't tall
He always used to pick me up
And I would soar
With the ground so far away
He seemed like a giant
But that day
The other men were looking down on him
And he craned his neck to them all
My father changed that day
At least in my eyes
Like the day I found out that his name was Greg
Or Gregory
Or Mr. Fox
Not Daddy like I always called him
Gregory Fox is my father
But it is Daddy who tucks me in at night

I remember the day
I realized my father was short
I finally stood
Level with his broad shoulders
Knowing I had years of growing left
It was one thing to pass mom
She was just a girl
But to learn that my father
Was small
He changed in my eyes again that day
The he himself had never changed
But you see
Daddy was a great big man
And my father is only five-foot-eight
So I'm a bigger man than he.

I remember the day
I realized my father wasn't strong
He could always pin me when we wrestled
And he always broke my toughest tackles
But it didn't take long
Before I outran him
Before I hit him like a brick
And I realized he was a man
Just a man
Not superman
Like I secretly hoped
And somehow he was different then
Somehow he changed
My father always carried a pen
Never a sword
Daddy was still a super hero
But my father is just a writer

I remember the day
I realized my father was weak
It was the day
I saw him cry
And seeing those tears in his eyes
Changed the way I knew him
I learned
That he was like me
That he felt pain and sorrow too
Daddy was never soft
Never let his emotions show
Least of all to me
I didn't even know he could feel
But my father
Was a broken hearted man
Who tried to carry the world
And I'll never forget the day
I realized who he was

2 comments:

analiese said...

This made me cry a little. True story.

starbird said...

this moves.