Those Winter Sundays - Summary and Theme of The Poem

Those Winter Sundays

Sundays too my father got up early

and put his clothes on in the blueblack cold,

then with cracked hands that ached

from labor in the weekday weather made

banked fires blaze. No one ever thanked him.

I’d wake and hear the cold splintering, breaking.

When the rooms were warm, he’d call,

and slowly I would rise and dress,

fearing the chronic angers of that house,

Speaking indifferently to him,

who had driven out the cold

and polished my good shoes as well.

What did I know, what did I know

of love’s austere and lonely offices?

Those Winter Sundays Summary

My father would also wake up early on Sunday mornings and get dressed in the freezing cold. With his rough, aching hands—worn from his job as a manual labourer who worked outside—he would light fires in the house. None of us ever said thank you to him for doing this.

Soon after, I'd wake up and hear the walls and floorboards creaking as the cold left them. Once the house was all warmed up, my father would call me down. I'd get out of bed and get dressed slowly, afraid of getting wrapped in the constant tensions in that house.

I was detached and distant when I talked to my father, even though he was the one who'd conquered the cold and polished my shoes for me too. I didn't know back then, I didn't know how tough and isolating it was to be a loving father.

Those Winter Sundays: Themes

Family and Parenting

“Those Winter Sundays” is a deceptively simple poem that highlights the sacrifices—often unseen—that parents make for their children. Written from an adult perspective, the poem sees the speaker reflecting on the parenting style of his father. He realizes that his father made sacrifices for him without expecting anything to return, acting only out of love for his family. The poem thus presents parenting as selfless and often thankless work.

The family dynamic between the father and son in “Those Winter Sundays” is not especially warm, open, or close. But, the poem argues, this doesn’t mean that the father isn’t utterly devoted to his son’s welfare. Familial love, as the speaker realizes in adulthood, can show itself in small gestures that may go unperceived by children as they grow up.

To that end, the poem paints a vivid picture of the speaker’s father as a man with a strong sense of familial duty. On Sundays (traditionally a day of rest), the father is always the first to rise. On these harsh winter mornings, he gets up early—even though he is tired from his week of hard work outside—to light a fire and bring warmth to the house. The fact that he does this on Sundays “too” implies that he does this during the rest of the week as well. He makes this regular sacrifice in order to make his family more comfortable. This humble ritual suggests the presence of emotional warmth, even if it might not be clearly expressed in words. Indeed, as the speaker confesses, “no one ever thanks [s]” the father.

Furthermore, suggests the poem, this is just one among many selfless acts that the father performs for his son. Not only does the father “drive[] out the cold,” but he also polishes his son’s best shoes. Parenting, implies the poem, is in part a series of small but endless tasks, most of which go unnoticed by the very person for whose benefit they are done.

It’s important to note, however, that the poem doesn’t overly sentimentalize or oversimplify its subject matter. Indeed, the suggestion of the presence of “chronic anger” in the house suggests that times were often difficult too (though the speaker doesn’t flesh out any specifics). Parents don't have to be perfect to be good parents, the poem implies, though sometimes familial tensions can prevent children from recognizing how much their parents still do for them.

Ultimately, the speaker feels that his father didn’t really get the appreciation that he deserved at this time—and that this is often true of parenting. That’s why the poem widens its scope in its closing rhetorical question, asking “what did I know / of love’s austere and lonely offices?” This mention of love is more general, rather than being specifically tied solely to the speaker’s father. This question characters the responsibilities of a parent as a kind of work (offices can mean services or duty), one that often goes unappreciated. That’s why it’s “lonely” work—and it’s “austere” because it’s sometimes hard. Implicitly, then, the poem becomes a subtle argument in favour of appreciating—and showing appreciation—for your parents. And, indeed, for showing that appreciation, before it’s too late, do so.

Lines 1-14

Growing Up and Memory

“Those Winter Sundays” explores the way that the experiences of childhood can seem different when looked back on from an adult perspective. In revisiting childhood memories, the poem implies, adults can see and understand what they didn’t realize at the time.

The poem is told entirely in the past tense, situating it firmly in the speaker’s memory as he realizes—not without a tinge of regret—that as a child he was ignorant of the subtle ways in which his father took care of him. For example, the speaker recalls the way his father would heat the house on cold Sunday mornings and polish the speaker’s “good shoes.” But the speaker didn’t really appreciate any of this. He never thanked his father, and usually spoke “indifferently” to him. He'd also linger in bed to avoid getting caught up in any family tensions, suggesting how, to his child's mind, family fights were more memorable than acts of love.

Basically, the speaker realizes from his adult perspective that he took his father for granted. Now in adulthood, the speaker more fully understands what it means to make sacrifices for others. Now, he can look back on his childhood and perceive the way that his father was fulfilling “love’s austere and lonely offices” (“offices” can mean duties or services). Implicit in this phrase is the idea that it takes becoming an adult to learn these “austere and lonely offices”—most children can’t fully appreciate their parents because they haven’t had to be responsible yet for another human being. “Those Winter Sundays,” then, has a kind of sadness to it that is equal parts nostalgic and regretful. The speaker knows he can’t go back and show his appreciation, but that he can at least record it in the words of this poem.