March 9: Daughter's Band Concert, Natasha Trethewey, "Rotation"

Going to see my daughter's band concert tonight.  She plays the flute--the same flute that my wife played when she was just a few years older than my daughter is now.

Some days, my daughter seems to really love me.  Other days, she can't stand the sight of me.  At least, that's how I feel.  I guess that's the nature of father/daughter relationships.  I make up the rules, and she resents me for making up the rules.

Saint Marty is looking forward to being proud of his little girl tonight.

Rotation

by:  Natasha Trethewey

Like the moon that night, my father —

         a distant body, white and luminous.

How small I was back then,

         looking up as if from dark earth.

Distant, his body white and luminous, 

         my father stood in the doorway.

Looking up as if from dark earth,

         I saw him outlined in a scrim of light.

My father stood in the doorway

         as if to watch over me as I dreamed.

When I saw him outlined — a scrim of light —

         he was already waning, turning to go.

Once, he watched over me as I dreamed.

         How small I was. Back then, 

he was already turning to go, waning

         like the moon that night — my father.