My Mother, My Self

BY: RuthW

WMy-MotherMySelf117x175
Nobody loves you like your mother.
Fussing with your hat, doling out superfluous advice:
"Stand up straight!" "Look both ways!"
Putting up with our selective amnesia
as we forget to bring home our report card—again.

I want to know her back story,
what she gave up for me.
Help me understand the woman she was.
Allow me to dream her dreams,
the ones she put on a shelf so I could fly.
She wanted so much more for me than she ever had.

Show me the grace to remember the times fondly,
when she harped on me, and pulled my strings.
I'll make my own music, inspired by her,
knowing she stands proudly in the wings.

 

 

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-Pearl S. Buck
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