Love So Stated
Love So Stated
Mother said uncounted times,
“Sally, I know you better than you know yourself,”
But, if that were true she wouldn’t have said so,
For it hurt — much — and I cannot believe she
Meant such a hurting. It may have begun when
I grew from a child into the age of the unpredictable.
We all like to think we know loved ones well enough
To plan surprises, from cooking favorite foods to
Getting them gifts to be treasured, from when they
Need a hug to how they like room lights dimmed or
The curtains opened in the mornings, of days when
They need an extra hand or to hear a Chopin etude.
From earliest childhood I had an artist’s soul,
A nature of being in a sister universe to my mother’s,
Not the same, but a way of seeing and learning
outside
The pure intellect in which she met the world. In all,
She may have more truthfully said,
“I love you better than you love yourself, Sally!”
For I had been her daughter from waiting days
And first cry, the infant she held, who demanded
Her smiles and forever sought her approval, which
She said I had unconditionally, but so unbelievable,
For while I knew the love, the yearnings of my
Christ-loving, artist-eyed soul felt not understood.
When I was 16, some disagreement led my beloved
Ballet teacher to tell my mother, “I know Sally
Better than you do,” which hurt my mother very
Much, so much, she never forgot her anger, and
Did not tell me for decades...I would have scratched
Open the presumption of my beloved teacher,
For she knew me neither, although she, too, had
Loved me much, for she had rocked the cradle
Of my artistry. Neither knew me so completely well As I was in those days as unformed as the first clay
Form of Degas’ precious statue of the young dancer, In danger of collapsing, and still
without her presented soul.
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(c) sally Young eslinger 9/20/20
Thanks be to God
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