Although from youth I found myself destined to be great,
(an undiscovered star, covered in dust and fallen from grace)
My father was never quite my biggest fan.
And though he tried for years to establish some sort of connection,
I seemed to be akin to a cell phone in the mountains,
(frustrating and never doing what I was supposed to.)
Yet despite the many failed attempts, his persistence maintained,
often taking me to do the activities he liked most,
hiking, scouting, hunting.
And though I refused to hurt an animal,
(he may as well have birthed an alien)
I connected, at the very least, with the wilderness around me.
And in his attempt to break the barrier, he would offer some fatherly advice,
(a philosopher confused by his own student.)
Before the hike back, he would gather all his gear and say through tired teeth,
“You must pay attention to land marks, one day I will not be here to guide you home.”
(an honor of a task to bestow a lowly 10 year old.)
So in silence we would stumble,
as I alone pioneered the trail to the car,
(I felt myself Lewis and Clark simultaneously.)
On the drive home my mind would wander,
wondering when exactly land marks became so important,
(anxiety breeds a fear of certain silly situations.)
Yet now I am aware that most advice is relative, as well as metaphorical.
Because as I grew older without the guidance of my father,
and fell into the weave and waves of you and all your torment,
I realize my mistake.
See I used to think you my situation,
(stranded without water, lost within a wilderness,
a sun sucking life from my skin)
but now I see you are the land mark.
Not by any means,
Just a tall and looming mountain,
intimidating in stature,
but slowly guiding me,
– Brittany Rickard