Meryl's Notes Blog

I did an unmotherly thing last night and went to bed too late. Thus, I can find no profound words for my mom except that I’m thankful each day that she is in my life. I don’t think we need a special day set aside to remind us to approciate our moms as that should be a regular thing. But in honor of this day, I offer this poem by Dimitri Shostakovich.

Before I Was Myself, You Made Me, Me

Before I was myself you made me, me With love and patience, discipline and tears, Then bit by bit stepped back to set me free, Allowing me to sail upon my sea, Though well within the headlands of your fears. Before I was myself you made me, me

With dreams enough of what I was to be And hopes that would be sculpted by the years, Then bit by bit stepped back to set me free,

Relinquishing your powers gradually To let me shape myself among my peers. Before I was myself you made me, me,

And being good and wise, you gracefully As dancers when the last sweet cadence nears Bit by bit stepped back to set me free.

For love inspires learning naturally: The mind assents to what the heart reveres. And so it was through love you made me, me By slowly stepping back to set me free.