Robert Hayden 'Those Winter Sundays' pg 2264

I was struck with a sadness when I read Robert Hayden’s “Those Winter Sundays”. Though it was one of the shorter poems we have read this semester, it was one of the more saddening ones. One that talked of regret, mixed with admiration and the missed opportunity to show and teach love.

The father was clearly a very hard working man that showed his love by deeds; making sure the house was warm in the winter, and even polishing his son’s shoes. However, by working so hard, he missed the opportunity to teach his son how to love. Actions speak louder than words, including the actions of giving a hug, or just spending time with a person.

I felt the father lacked in expressing this kind of love and in doing so, his son did not learn what love is about and how to express it, as he says so himself at the end of the poem, “What did I know, what did I know of love’s austere and lonely offices?”. This is very sad as children grow up so fast and learn what they see. Love should never be lonely nor should it be a job to express it.

But the responsibility does not only lay with the father. The son also has missed opportunities to acknowledge what the father does, not out of duty, but out of love. Maybe this was how the father was taught to love, in turn, teaching the son these very things. However, the son could have gotten up to help split wood, or taken time to polish his father’s shoes for once, as his own gestures of love and appreciation.

As it seems, these opportunities have passed and the time to say ‘thank you’ is gone. It sounds as if the father has passed away and now the son is reflecting on these missed opportunities. Reflecting upon the indifference that he had toward his father and the anger that was in the house. I think that maybe he was wishing that things would have been different, that he should have said thank you and acknowledged what his father had done for him. To simply tell his father that he loved him. Something that he did not know how to do as a child.

This poem has almost a pleading tone in the son’s voice as if to say that he was sorry for not appreciating his father when it would have counted to do so. It is sad to think that these memories, memories that he clearly cherished, that he held of his father were mixed with one’s of regret.

As I have learned the hard way, living with regret is no way to live. One shouldn’t wait until it is too late to acknowledge something before they say or act to change it. It’s sad that this son has done this very thing. Because of this, maybe the son has learned how to finally love and appreciate. Unfortunately it is the hard way to learn.