Reflection on “Those Winter Sundays”
In his poem entitled “Those Winter Sundays”, Robert Hayden looks back on his childhood in Detroit, Robert Hayden looks back on his childhood in Detroit and recounts the ways his father cared for him and his family without being properly thanked. Hayden makes it clear that he is aware of his ungracious attitude at that time in his life, as he questions in the last lines “what did I know, what did I know of love’s austere and lonely offices?”. Regardless of whether or not he was deliberately unappreciative, Hayden is still remorseful that his father so diligently looked at after his family’s well-being without any reciprocity.
Hayden’s tone throughout the poem is solemn, which is true to his feelings toward the situation about which he writes. In addition, though, the tone is a reflection of what his father was probably feeling as he rose early in the morning to tediously prepare a fire in order to keep his family warm in the cold winters. The work he put in was taxing on his cracked, aching hands and would certainly be taxing on his mind as well. I know nothing of what it’s like to build and maintain a fire for heat, but based on the description provided by Hayden, it can’t be pleasant. Apparently Hayden’s father had a bit of a temper, evidenced by the line that states that he “fear[ed] the chronic angers of that house”, but if it were me doing the job, I’d be a little grouchy too, especially if no one showed any gratitude for the resulting warmth.
I would think this poem evoked a feeling of guilt and sorrow in readers like it did in me. I am not above admitting that I do not thank my parents as much I should for not only (relatively) little things like food on the dining room table, and big things like making the opportunity to study at Bellarmine a reality. I don’t owe thanks to myself or anyone else for this but my loving parents (and maybe the United States Department of Education for financial aid). In fact, I’m not sure if I’ve actually said the words “thank you for sending me to college” to either my mom or my dad. This is an extraordinarily important stage in my life, and I wouldn’t have a chance of getting a degree if it weren’t for them, so I should maybe consider doing just that.
As I have gotten older, I have gained an understanding that I am privileged to be here. I didn’t have all of the nice things that my friends in town had growing up and even though I thought it was unfair and even embarrassing to not have a cell phone until the eighth grade, I was still incredibly blessed to be in the position that I was. I can’t even believe how ridiculous it was for me to practically shed tears over the fact that all the