My Father's Daughter

A poem for my dad on Father's Day

I know Father’s Day can be complicated. Paternal figures are notorious for being flawed ones, which is likely exacerbated as we age and our parents become more human with each passing year.

My own father isn’t a perfect person. None of us are. But if you’ll allow me, I’d say he’s a damn good one. This year I decided to honor him with this little poem.

Whatever this day means to you, I hope you find a way to make it a damn good one.

My Father’s Daughter

“I’m sorry,”
he said.
“You got that from me.”
He’s referring to my constant motion,
but he could easily mean
my stubborn insistence to persist through pain
or my inexhaustible need to please.
He could also mean 
my love for the screech of electric guitars
or how I’ll do just about anything for a laugh.
I know he’s not talking about
the little messes I leave everywhere
or my stacks of unread books.
I got that from her.
But my humor, restlessness
and superhuman ability 
to pick myself up over and over again?
He can apologize for those.
I got them from him.

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