When I remember father it’s mostly his vicious temper, when the weight of the world ready to cause an outburst, his fits of rage in front of the television. His screams heard was by neighbours, and I often bent my head in shame. But there are other things I remember even more, the sound of skis cutting fresh snow, the full winter moon blue. A sheen to dim the stars. The way the branches weight from snow.
He had been working late, and came out long after darkness fell. We had winter-break from school, and me and my sister spent a winter holiday alone. After a brief meal he asked me if I wanted to take a short ski-tour. “The moon is full”, he said. I nodded and we took our skies. They were freshly tarred, and the snow was cold. We skied over lakes on ice and snow. The snow glistened, saphired by the moon.
The morning after it thawed and I cannot recall that we ever skied together again, yet whenever I see the full moon on snow I hear my father’s voice. “Let us ski tonight”.
zig-zag traces —
a young hare escaped
the cunning fox
Untitled (Two Rabbits, Pampas Grass, and Full Moon) by Hiroshige
Today Thotpurge is guest again inspiring us with haibun Monday at dVerse. She shares some wonderful poetry relating to the moon. Come share your moon writing.
—
March 14, 2016
Björn Rudbergs writings 
This is wonderful, Bjorn, the more so because you show us both sides of your father. I am glad you have that one beautiful memory. An awesome write.
I have of course many more… but this one stands out… truly those moment skiing is a wonderful memory.
What a beautiful “blue moon” night and poignant memory, Bjorn…i can hear the sound of skis cutting the snow.
It was a perfect night… and it’s one of my most vivid memories.
It’s amazing what memories can draw out of your creativity. I like the image too 😉
I think memories are truly the best way to draw inspiration…
Vivid writing Björn & the cut of the skis is heart melting
The sound of skis are so perfect when the snow is right.
As a poet, your vault of personal memories seems inexhaustible. This piece is so very vivid, regional, & emotional, leaving me with both sadness & joy; relationships with a father are so critical for one’s future development–I wish I had known my father.
I think you are right… and I do think I’m more like my father than I’d like to think.
You have given a vivid picture of the two sides of your father, Bjorn. I am glad that, amidst the painful memories of your father, you also have the magical memory of skiing by the light of the full moon!
I have many other positive memories, but this one stands out…
The haiku says it all. Unfortunately, so many children have a parent (or parents) whom they spend the rest of their lives “running away from” or trying to escape. Memories can be more tormenting than the actual experiences. I think the “zig-zag” is especially potent, as the little boy inside of you goes back and forth between loving him and trying to get away from him or fearing him. I had a verbally violent father, abusive in various ways and a passive-aggressive mother. But I still love them both to pieces. My biological father was a madman — a deviant sociopath; I never really knew him, but I still love him as well. No matter who our parents are or how they break us down, they are part of who we are.
I’m quite enamored of the way the moon “sapphired” the snow. How beautiful.
In addition I also admired my father… He was a good painter, a kind man in many ways… Humans are so complex.
Oooh, that haiku as the climax of your story gave me the chills. In most relationships, there are such divergent memories. In fiction they would call that a rounded character. And so we all are.
You are so right… all humans are so complex.
A wonderful night by the light of the moon!
It truly was.
Children absorb inexplicable moments, some tender, some not, and they’re all retained as if carved into the their bones. It’s the same for all children.
I think so… and this was one of the best moment I remember.
A lot of mixed emotions expressed creating a powerful memory. An excellent told story.
Thank you… it is one of those moment that really stands clear for me.
It comes across in your words.
Parents can have their terrible moments, many of them seem to be made of terrible moments… But when their true goodness comes to shine, when they show us why we end up forgiving most of the raging, oh those times are pure magic.
Your poem says so much about your relationship with your father, and how you related to him. There is sense of unease, but not fear… Just a feeling that says that any nonsense will be dealt with. Still, under all that thunder, you two have the snow, the moon, and skiing.
I think you are right… he really wanted well for me… but there were few moments that where truly happy like these.
I understand exactly what you mean…
Now I seem to recall my father having a terrible temper as well ~ But now that he is old & ailing, he is much more tempered ~ I love the personal portrait of your father Bjorn, and that memory of skiing together ~ I love the description of that night:
the sound of skis cutting fresh snow, the full winter moon blue. A sheen to dim the stars. The way the branches weight from snow.
There is magic in a winter night… maybe that’s why I love “Stopping by woods on a snowy evening” so much…
Oh, my. That ‘ku leads to a whole ‘nother place with this, Bjorn. What a poignant piece.
Thank you… sometimes our most vivid memory is the easiest ones to write about
Writing anything here feels pointless, everyone already said what I wanted to yet here is my broken record piece: the verse at the end gives such an in depth encirclement of your story. I really appreciate reading it because it is not always lucrative to share/read something that is touching and personal.
Oh the contrasts a child has of their parents – and how we as adults let loose of who and what we really are – obviously, skiing helped your dad capture himself back a bit. Glad you have this (and I’m sure) many more good memories… Beautiful write.
Wow Bjorn…that sounds like it just poured out from somewhere deep inside. It’s always humbling when someone shares a personal experience. Very moving.
It takes me back to my childhood as well. Not many happy memories there either. It’s good to reflect on the good times
Fabulous haibun Bjorn, such a compelling tale and told so beautifully.
I have similiar feelings about my father, and similar memories – not of skiing, but rare moments where we felt comfortable with each other. The haiku is stunning. And I love “sapphired by the moon.” Wonderful scenes of skiing… beautifully done.
i love the reality of this intimate scene.
your poetry called me to dive into the void of my own memories.
i find it especially poignant that you don’t recall ever skiing with him again.
Loved how you expressed the complexity of the relationship between your father and you with the wonderful haiku at the end. 🙂
I like the juxtaposition of your father’s fits of rage and the serenity of the moonlight ski., which is crowned by the haiku 🙂
Love so much about this tale and its haiku. “The snow glistened, saphired by the moon” is one of my favorite lines. It seems there can be many unpleasant memories of a parent…a relationship frought with our growing awareness of who they are and are not….and yet there seems to be always one memory that softens and crystallizes that inborn love. This is beautiful. And I especially like the shift made in the haiku….the hare and the fox. Well done!
Everyone has two sides. I’m glad you honor the full man, not hiding part of him in shame. No doubt he loved you.
Excellent story!
To ski by night brings a wonderful elation. Sensational. I’m sorry you have negative memories of your father. Mine too had a wicked temper, but he was also enormous fun to be with.
Stunning haibun.
Whether the memories are good or bad, I always find something in my own father of which to write. The haiku is striking.
so much longing and I love the way you artfully took us from the vicious temper to a beautiful memory .
Memory’s a strange thing; so selective. A beautiful write, magical to someone like me who doesn’t experience snow.
I can see how this remains a vivid memory of you and your father, Bjorn, since you don’t remember another time skiing with him…and skiing remains such an important part of your life. I love the idea of the snow glistening blue by the moon. It seems to me like another world out there on the frozen waters.
This causes a great sadness and feeling of loss/longing…really such touching prose and poignant haiku…the idea of remembering the last ever ski trip with father…so emotional. I love this description: “The snow glistened, saphired by the moon.” Beautiful haibun, Bjorn.
This is so beautiful and poignant: A lump-in-the-throat tender expression of love for, what I perceive to have been, an often emotionally distant parent (as were so many men of that older generation) – Mine too. I have a handful of such memories, myself, with my father. They are lovely and fragile and sweet. With time (a lot of time) such memories come close to forgiving – or at least, softening – a lot of that weight-of-the-world temper.