Not Bad, Dad, Not Bad – Jan Heller Levi
I think you are most yourself when you are swimming;
slicing the water with each stroke,
the funny way you breathe, your mouth cocked
as though you’re yawning.
You’re neither fantastic nor miserable
at getting from here to there.
You wouldn’t win any medals, Dad,
but you wouldn’t drown.
I think how different everything might have been
had I judged your loving
like I judge your sidestroke, your butterfly,
your Australian crawl.
But I always thought I was drowning
in that icy ocean between us,
I always thought you were moving too slowly to save me,
When you were moving as fast as you can.
Dad’s Side – Esty Sutherland
I think you are most yourself when you are writing, Curled up thinking,
The funny way you stare at the paper, unblinking,
As though you’re trying to stare someone down.
You’re both joyous and solemn,
When getting from here to there,
You could be at rock bottom,
But still rise to the top, keeping a casual air.
I think how different everything might have been
Had I read into your movements and worries,
Like I read your poems, your essays,
Your stories.
But I always thought you were sinking,
Into the unspoken words, the empty pages between us, I always
thought I was trying too hard for you, that I was too much, When
what you needed was for me to try harder.
