What We Do To Our Mothers

“The news reached the palace before the breakfast dishes had been cleared. The daughter was gone. No carriage had been ordered. No royal permission had been requested. No explanation had been left behind. The Main Princess stood in her daughter's room, looking at a bed that had been slept in, a window left open, and a childhood that suddenly seemed much too far away. She did not call for the guards. She sat down.

And remembered…”

I used to leave my mother's house

With a temper and a slammed front door.

She'd stand there, watching me walk away,

Like she'd seen that picture before.

I'd say, "You never understand me."

She'd say, "You'll understand one day."

I thought she only wanted control,

So I ran as far as I could get away.

Now look at me, sitting in this room,

Staring at a bed that's made too soon.

Wondering if she's eaten, where she's been,

If she'll ever let me hear her voice again.

Oh, Mama, I remember what I said,

All those restless nights I left you there.

Funny how the years can turn around

And put your own words in your daughter's mouth.

Children do what we did to our mothers,

Then we wonder why the years repeat.

We spend our lives trying to protect them,

Never knowing when to let them leave.

I wanted her safe, I wanted her near,

Wanted to spare her the troubles I knew.

But somewhere between keeping her close

And teaching her life, I forgot she was growing, too.

I wanted her to learn from my mistakes,

Not make the same ones I had made.

I wanted her to see what I had built,

Not question every stone I laid.

But didn't I question my mother's wisdom?

Didn't I think that I knew best?

Didn't I mistake her worry for a cage

When all she wanted was to give her child some rest?

Lord, I must have given Mama quite a time.

Perhaps she isn't lost.

Perhaps she's finding her way.

Perhaps the things I couldn't tell her

She'll discover in her own day.

I cannot choose the road she travels.

I cannot make her heart stand still.

I can only pray the love I gave her

Will find her when the world gets real.

Children do what we did to our mothers,

And now I understand a little more.

The little girl who swore she'd never be her

Is standing by an empty bedroom door.

I raised her to be strong,

To know her mind, to carry on.

And though I wish she'd told me before,

I cannot teach her wings

Then blame her for wanting to soar.

MAIN PRINCESS — Sung softly:

Mama, if you can hear me,

Be with her,

Be with her,

Mama, if you can hear me,

Be with her,

Be with my daughter as she goes on…