There are three motivations in life: money, power, and love.
One can see the mother in the shadow she cast on her daughter:
raising her daughter to be intelligent
in a world that valued neither women nor intelligence.
Always pushing her daughter for more
but never thinking to offer praise.
The daughter, later, finding it impossible to fit in—
looking for sympathy and finding only accusation
(small wonder, though, considering the history with her neighbors).
She made the classic mistake,
thinking a child will be someone who loves you
when instead, a child is one to whom you give love.
And then, the real tragedy,
assuming that since her upbringing was so harsh and unloving
that the reverse would be ideal
and took matters to the other extreme,
smothering with love,
so it is small wonder that the child, once grown,
was fair prey for the first heartless handsome wretch to come along.
And then life in the world being too much for one raised behind tower walls,
broke beneath the pressure of its demands.
One wonders if the giant’s step came as a relief,
though that, in turn, broke the one who needed her,
craved the love of a daughter, a family,
Rapunzel sobs that her upbringing has insured
that she can never be happy.
A pause, then,
“I was only trying to be a good mother.”
And we laugh, because, after all,
What would a witch know of love?
May 18, 2009