deepundergroundpoetry.com
the sometimes painful folly of being sentimental
(and other lessons learned)
"After this, there's really nothing left"...
she says, almost absentmindedly,
while pulling out a tiny black velvet bag.
(have no doubt, this was her mostly playing martyr)
I quickly catch the simultaneous swallowing
of the huge lump in her throat,
proof, that was more telling than she'd like.
She went on saying (with trademarked bite)
that she'd gifted my sister
some old piece of her jewelry as well—
perhaps a ring
or earrings
or a necklace
I really couldn't tell you,
since I was barely listening.
(Usually that works in my favor.)
However, I was keen to pick up on
her oh so recognizable tone.
She made certain I understood
that my sister's, was a 'gift' with a better story
and as she considered it,
was something far more precious
in value or sentimentality
than what I was about to receive
This is her way.
Imbuing a simple kind gesture
with her specific brand of sharp cruelty,
especially while trying to come across
as motherly.
'Charitable giving' certain to leave you haunted—
bonus points if you also felt utterly worthless
after all the random little digs
sprinkled throughout a visit.
Individual slices, meant to draw blood
over and over.
My smile— one I've practiced for years
hid my real feelings perfectly.
Not one indication slips through
of a truth that lies beneath.
I politely open the little black velvet bag
as she explains that my father
(I immediately knew)
picked this particular, somewhat gawdy
costume jewelry set (her words)
out for her himself
during his weekly business trips to New York.
He'd travel there almost every week for work,
for the first 8 - 9 years of my life.
Being gone for the bulk of the year,
meant he was mainly home only on the weekends,
a fact she never let him forget,
reminding him frequently
as this passive aggressive weapon.
The jewelery set
wasn't exorbitantly fancy
or something all that pretty to most.
To me though, the set were priceless,
sparkling, royal gems
showcasing physical proof of love.
Cherished memories of that one special Christmas,
has helped to keep my dad with me.
l love recalling him showing us
this particular professionally wrapped package.
I was young enough
to still feel holiday magic everywhere.
Seems like almost yesterday,
when being lovingly lost
in all those big feelings
of enchantment and yule wonder
was far too easy to do.
Feeling a husband's love
and deeply valuing that beautiful gesture,
became a cornerstone memory.
I'd lay under our tree
fingering it's colorful bow,
soaking up how it glistened in the tree lights,
marveling at the skillful decoration.
Nonstop dreams of what lay hidden inside
running through my head,
loving my father more and more
My heart, so full at his generousity and care.
When that year's Christmas morning came—
found us unwrapping gifts,
I could hardly contain myself.
Unable to wait to see what that gorgeous box held,
I disregarded my own gifts and toys,
running straight towards where it laid
amongst scattered debris
of ribbon and wrapping paper.
Handing it to my mother, I was beaming—
understanding this was how joy and love should be,
what it felt like.
She marveled at the package's craftsmanship,
ohh'd and ahh'd at the fancy professional decoration,
pretending like she hadn't seen it at all
before that day
(or my infatuation thereof)
Slowly,
painstakingly
she opened it.
My little heart leapt and pounded,
until finally, she opened the inner jewelry gift box
I swear I could hear myself catch my breath
I remember keeping my eyes center focused on her face
for the first and any faintest signs
of the pure joy I was sure would bloom
like a rose opening its petals
I bated-breath-waited for it
and waited ....
It never came.
She eventually
feigned hollow approval and adoration
but I saw it.
I saw her.
I saw abject disappointment
flooding her face in an instant flash
only to be masked a second later.
Yet it was there,
crystal clear
and undoubtedly.
To this day,
I have no idea why she was disappointed
or what it might have been
she was expecting.
and I don't care one bit to know.
She wore the earrings a few times
over the years,
I never saw her wear the necklace.
Not. once.
However I did see the pride
and joy in my father's eyes that morning.
How sure of himself he was
that she'd absolutely love
what he chose for her and
that she absolutely loved him.
I know with three kids,
that there wasn't much left over
to spend on themselves.
Also, that my father's kind gift
along with the enormous cost of Christmas
meant especially hard work for him,
potentially 80-100 hour work weeks, easily
(Hopefully, that was not lost on her)
......
So— this Christmas
harkens me back.
Better educated by hindsight,
adds a thicker layer of everlasting pride.
I'm beyond thrilled
to have a distinct honor filling my chest
in finally getting to pay proper homage
to that jewelry set
Giving it and my daddy the long awaited fanfare
of deep approval and heartfelt appreciation
they've both always deserved
from eyes that shine
of a love which knows no condition
and never will.
"After this, there's really nothing left"...
she says, almost absentmindedly,
while pulling out a tiny black velvet bag.
(have no doubt, this was her mostly playing martyr)
I quickly catch the simultaneous swallowing
of the huge lump in her throat,
proof, that was more telling than she'd like.
She went on saying (with trademarked bite)
that she'd gifted my sister
some old piece of her jewelry as well—
perhaps a ring
or earrings
or a necklace
I really couldn't tell you,
since I was barely listening.
(Usually that works in my favor.)
However, I was keen to pick up on
her oh so recognizable tone.
She made certain I understood
that my sister's, was a 'gift' with a better story
and as she considered it,
was something far more precious
in value or sentimentality
than what I was about to receive
This is her way.
Imbuing a simple kind gesture
with her specific brand of sharp cruelty,
especially while trying to come across
as motherly.
'Charitable giving' certain to leave you haunted—
bonus points if you also felt utterly worthless
after all the random little digs
sprinkled throughout a visit.
Individual slices, meant to draw blood
over and over.
My smile— one I've practiced for years
hid my real feelings perfectly.
Not one indication slips through
of a truth that lies beneath.
I politely open the little black velvet bag
as she explains that my father
(I immediately knew)
picked this particular, somewhat gawdy
costume jewelry set (her words)
out for her himself
during his weekly business trips to New York.
He'd travel there almost every week for work,
for the first 8 - 9 years of my life.
Being gone for the bulk of the year,
meant he was mainly home only on the weekends,
a fact she never let him forget,
reminding him frequently
as this passive aggressive weapon.
The jewelery set
wasn't exorbitantly fancy
or something all that pretty to most.
To me though, the set were priceless,
sparkling, royal gems
showcasing physical proof of love.
Cherished memories of that one special Christmas,
has helped to keep my dad with me.
l love recalling him showing us
this particular professionally wrapped package.
I was young enough
to still feel holiday magic everywhere.
Seems like almost yesterday,
when being lovingly lost
in all those big feelings
of enchantment and yule wonder
was far too easy to do.
Feeling a husband's love
and deeply valuing that beautiful gesture,
became a cornerstone memory.
I'd lay under our tree
fingering it's colorful bow,
soaking up how it glistened in the tree lights,
marveling at the skillful decoration.
Nonstop dreams of what lay hidden inside
running through my head,
loving my father more and more
My heart, so full at his generousity and care.
When that year's Christmas morning came—
found us unwrapping gifts,
I could hardly contain myself.
Unable to wait to see what that gorgeous box held,
I disregarded my own gifts and toys,
running straight towards where it laid
amongst scattered debris
of ribbon and wrapping paper.
Handing it to my mother, I was beaming—
understanding this was how joy and love should be,
what it felt like.
She marveled at the package's craftsmanship,
ohh'd and ahh'd at the fancy professional decoration,
pretending like she hadn't seen it at all
before that day
(or my infatuation thereof)
Slowly,
painstakingly
she opened it.
My little heart leapt and pounded,
until finally, she opened the inner jewelry gift box
I swear I could hear myself catch my breath
I remember keeping my eyes center focused on her face
for the first and any faintest signs
of the pure joy I was sure would bloom
like a rose opening its petals
I bated-breath-waited for it
and waited ....
It never came.
She eventually
feigned hollow approval and adoration
but I saw it.
I saw her.
I saw abject disappointment
flooding her face in an instant flash
only to be masked a second later.
Yet it was there,
crystal clear
and undoubtedly.
To this day,
I have no idea why she was disappointed
or what it might have been
she was expecting.
and I don't care one bit to know.
She wore the earrings a few times
over the years,
I never saw her wear the necklace.
Not. once.
However I did see the pride
and joy in my father's eyes that morning.
How sure of himself he was
that she'd absolutely love
what he chose for her and
that she absolutely loved him.
I know with three kids,
that there wasn't much left over
to spend on themselves.
Also, that my father's kind gift
along with the enormous cost of Christmas
meant especially hard work for him,
potentially 80-100 hour work weeks, easily
(Hopefully, that was not lost on her)
......
So— this Christmas
harkens me back.
Better educated by hindsight,
adds a thicker layer of everlasting pride.
I'm beyond thrilled
to have a distinct honor filling my chest
in finally getting to pay proper homage
to that jewelry set
Giving it and my daddy the long awaited fanfare
of deep approval and heartfelt appreciation
they've both always deserved
from eyes that shine
of a love which knows no condition
and never will.
Published 27th Feb 2024
Author's Note
A poem/(long) short story (sorry!) rewrite of a piece I wrote right after Christmas, a few years ago. It originally felt unfinished, hopefully now it is.
©Blu2024
©Blu2024
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 24
reading list entries 13
comments 30
reads 660
Commenting Preference:
The author is looking for friendly feedback.
27th Feb 2024 1:58pm
Hello bluevelvete/Susan
Well written and you captured my curiosity. Beautifully executed.
Well written and you captured my curiosity. Beautifully executed.
27th Feb 2024 2:15pm
27th Feb 2024 2:47pm
28th Feb 2024 1:09pm
My apologies for the late response, it’s taken me a bit to gather my thoughts.
Dealing with the cruelty of a mother whose only emotion is coldness myself, I couldn’t help but be taken down by this one. And the fact that my mother is also in her last stages hit particularly hard. I thought I processed the loss of a mother I never had and after reading your poem I realized that I have not.
I commend your strength, B. Holding onto the memories and love of your father and doing the right thing by your mother is not easy by any means. No matter what has happened, what’s happening now or what will happen in the future, you have that and that is precious. I am exceedingly happy that you had the love of a father generous in his emotions.
The jewlery is beautiful. As are you.
Dealing with the cruelty of a mother whose only emotion is coldness myself, I couldn’t help but be taken down by this one. And the fact that my mother is also in her last stages hit particularly hard. I thought I processed the loss of a mother I never had and after reading your poem I realized that I have not.
I commend your strength, B. Holding onto the memories and love of your father and doing the right thing by your mother is not easy by any means. No matter what has happened, what’s happening now or what will happen in the future, you have that and that is precious. I am exceedingly happy that you had the love of a father generous in his emotions.
The jewlery is beautiful. As are you.
27th Feb 2024 2:56pm
27th Feb 2024 2:58pm
Much obliged, Bat
It's wonderful to have you stop by, I'm glad you found something here.... truly.
Take care, my friend
🌹B
It's wonderful to have you stop by, I'm glad you found something here.... truly.
Take care, my friend
🌹B
27th Feb 2024 4:42pm
Absolutely beautiful a really heartfelt write
Amazing Blue really loved this emotionpiece
Love and light
Ron xx
Amazing Blue really loved this emotionpiece
Love and light
Ron xx
Having you on my side, feeling this piece of mine as a whole gives me courage and conviction, dear sir.
Thank you for always having my back and for taking the time you do with me.... I'm a lucky Blu!
Much love from across the pond ✨
🌹💙
Thank you for always having my back and for taking the time you do with me.... I'm a lucky Blu!
Much love from across the pond ✨
🌹💙
27th Feb 2024 5:27pm
27th Feb 2024 6:16pm
Awww... You're lovely, LilD.
Thank you for sharing that with me... This one was long coming and truly difficult to finish,. It's out of my wheelhouse, as I don't usually write like this, so your thoughts really mean a lot to me.
Thank you for being here.
🌹💙
Thank you for sharing that with me... This one was long coming and truly difficult to finish,. It's out of my wheelhouse, as I don't usually write like this, so your thoughts really mean a lot to me.
Thank you for being here.
🌹💙
27th Feb 2024 6:33pm
hello beautiful Blue I was daddy's girl I had a stepmom who raised me since I was three I know what it's like to hurt... your deserved better as you yourself did my stepmother hated me...my dad died when I was nineteen... hold those treasures close...this made me cry because I used to do the same thing during Christmas lie under the tree imagining...so full of wonder... I'm sorry she didn't love him the ways she should have... my dad always went out of his way to make it special for us some people are just cold and that is their way my stepmom is still in my life but I don't expect her to be fair to me anymore it won't happen...I feel for your pain...love Brenda
27th Feb 2024 8:41pm
27th Feb 2024 10:50pm
We hold on to certain tings not because of their monetary value but because of the meaning they have in our lives. Our parents sometimes without trying may have hurt our feelings and egos, and as Gen Xers, we tend to carry that with us for a long time. It's inspiring, nostalgic and overall beautiful that you hold this true to history of your family with love and reverence.
Thank you for sharing.
Thank you for sharing.
28th Feb 2024 11:27am
Dear BV,
I recollect this piece from before when it made me cry. The rewrite made me cry harder. A beautiful gorgeous piece honoring your dad and his love. A loving beautiful tribute from you for your dad. So many stunning attributes within the writing itself. And I think the jewelry is fabulous vintage. xx
H🌷
I recollect this piece from before when it made me cry. The rewrite made me cry harder. A beautiful gorgeous piece honoring your dad and his love. A loving beautiful tribute from you for your dad. So many stunning attributes within the writing itself. And I think the jewelry is fabulous vintage. xx
H🌷
28th Feb 2024 11:34am
You should be proud of yourself S.
For this work
and
for the reasons this piece screams of and about you.
👏👏👏👏👏
For this work
and
for the reasons this piece screams of and about you.
👏👏👏👏👏
28th Feb 2024 11:42am
Sometimes to rightful owner and the truest gift find each other.
Difficult people are cruelest to themselves.
The lessons we learn are lifelong if we're paying attention.
Difficult people are cruelest to themselves.
The lessons we learn are lifelong if we're paying attention.
29th Feb 2024 3:35am
Lovely poem full of sadness and joy. Keep on writing you strong beautiful smart sexy woman.
1st Mar 2024 7:46pm
My mother had a colorful bracelet of little value that is now more precious than gold because of the memories it conjures. Beatific poem.
❣️
🙏🏽
(meant to write 'beautiful', but sometimes autocorrect finds the better word)
❣️
🙏🏽
(meant to write 'beautiful', but sometimes autocorrect finds the better word)
Anonymous
- Edited 2nd Mar 2024 3:50am
2nd Mar 2024 00:30am
I can identify with this somewhat. One night, a long time ago when both my parents were still alive, my father was in the bathroom with the door open gulping water in panic. He had an acid reflux attack. As I stood next to him with my hand on his back, my mother stood in the hall. As I went back to bed, she stood there laughing. They slept in separate bedrooms.
Who knows why some people seem unappreciative and distant...even cruel. I'm glad you have something to remember your dad by. I think that's really important.
Nicely and personally written, Blue.
Who knows why some people seem unappreciative and distant...even cruel. I'm glad you have something to remember your dad by. I think that's really important.
Nicely and personally written, Blue.
2nd Mar 2024 12:58pm
You have an uncanny ability of observation, understanding of psychology & sociology, and the ability to incorporate relevant details into a comprehensive, poetic essay. Like the narration of a documentary - scientific and artistic at the same time.
But what it comes down to, you are still daddy's little girl.
But what it comes down to, you are still daddy's little girl.
12th Mar 2024 6:14pm
Your very astute investigation has allowed you to zero in on the absolute truth of things.., of me....
Thank you for getting it and for being the impressive sleuth 🕵️ you are.
I adore you, my dear Leo
🌹💙 - B
Thank you for getting it and for being the impressive sleuth 🕵️ you are.
I adore you, my dear Leo
🌹💙 - B
7th Mar 2024 10:03pm
I missed this when it was published here.
Why I cannot think.
This is so amazingly full of autobiographical? honesty and openness.
Much love
Richard
Why I cannot think.
This is so amazingly full of autobiographical? honesty and openness.
Much love
Richard
11th Mar 2024 00:22am
Is it Onyx?
This write of yours hit me a bit deep. The aches that it emits are real, and sharp. I can relate to this more than (grown children) should. But this is your story, and I applaud your telling of it. I love it for its detail and sentiment.
Wonderful result.
This write of yours hit me a bit deep. The aches that it emits are real, and sharp. I can relate to this more than (grown children) should. But this is your story, and I applaud your telling of it. I love it for its detail and sentiment.
Wonderful result.
11th Mar 2024 1:05pm
Mark,
Thanks for stopping by to read and for leaving me your thoughts, it's appreciated muchly.
Looking back on the last 51 years is all I seem to do lately, in caring for a mother who never really wanted to mother and who's slowly deteriorating, mentally and physically–A chapter of my life that's hands down, been the challenge of my lifetime, for sure. I think tackling this piece was inevitable and kind of puts to rest all that bullshit I've kept very cleverly buried; which was long long time coming..... a true catharsis.
A part of me knew you'd understand this pain better than most (unfortunately) yet, without it, we'd never be who we are... So, there's a little peaceful understanding in that, too
Your visit helped me with perspective and left me comfort knowing I'm not alone...
.
Here's to purging all that ails......
.Again, thank you.
🌹S
Thanks for stopping by to read and for leaving me your thoughts, it's appreciated muchly.
Looking back on the last 51 years is all I seem to do lately, in caring for a mother who never really wanted to mother and who's slowly deteriorating, mentally and physically–A chapter of my life that's hands down, been the challenge of my lifetime, for sure. I think tackling this piece was inevitable and kind of puts to rest all that bullshit I've kept very cleverly buried; which was long long time coming..... a true catharsis.
A part of me knew you'd understand this pain better than most (unfortunately) yet, without it, we'd never be who we are... So, there's a little peaceful understanding in that, too
Your visit helped me with perspective and left me comfort knowing I'm not alone...
.
Here's to purging all that ails......
.Again, thank you.
🌹S
12th Mar 2024 1:17am
I felt the pain that resolved into joy as you remembered this gift and how it was treasured when it came your time to inherit it. Your Mom didn't feel or see its value even though your father worked such long and arduous hours to give your family a Christmas to remember. And I know so well how Christmas magic has faded as families fell apart, parents grow old and pass on and traditions that bonded us are left to wither. Love this tale of your father's love and how your mother's disregard for your feelings did not keep you from feeling the joy of having this gift of a father's love that will live with you forever. You really put your heart and soul into this story and I felt the emotions surge as I read your testament to memory and love. This is an epic of a daughter and mother as the years roll on from childhood to an adult world that you share with your Mom in her latter years. There is magic here abounding and I am moved in the depths of my heart by your odyssey into the past and present.
Much love and warm hugs,
John
Much love and warm hugs,
John
12th Mar 2024 6:05pm
Your words and in depth insight make the pain and worry that my inner most insecure self seems to flood me with slowly abate with each sentence I read.
Thank you so so much for seeing me and for really understanding the well of precarious truth from which I attempted to access in helping create this ink. You've got a keen eye and an amazing knack for shared empathy, my darling.... and thank goodness for that!
Miss seeing you, hopefully I'll be back soon!.
All my warmest,
🌹-Susan
Thank you so so much for seeing me and for really understanding the well of precarious truth from which I attempted to access in helping create this ink. You've got a keen eye and an amazing knack for shared empathy, my darling.... and thank goodness for that!
Miss seeing you, hopefully I'll be back soon!.
All my warmest,
🌹-Susan
13th Mar 2024 3:23am
I love your attention to expressing details and moments you remember so vividly. Your last stanza is the lace that wraps with poem up perfectly.
LJ
LJ
19th Mar 2024 5:34pm
Oh, my goodness, Lady Blue I welled up with deep emotion that rained down in tears while reading this beautifully, poignantly, lovingly written gem. I empathize so completely with your words. As a son and a now separated spouse, I have been on the receiving end, far too many times, of such underwhelming responses to carefully, lovingly selected gifts.
This passage evoked a loud "AMEN!" from me,
"I really couldn't tell you,
since I was barely listening.
(Usually that works in my favor.)"
I am so grateful to you for having shared such an intimate glimpse into your childhood and familial relationships. I know there is one proud papa gazing down at you with happy tears in his heavenly eyes saying, "that's my girl." And I am thrilled that the jewelry, purchased with such love and excitement has finally fallen into your loving embrace.
A heartfelt Bravissima❤️🤠💕🐰
This passage evoked a loud "AMEN!" from me,
"I really couldn't tell you,
since I was barely listening.
(Usually that works in my favor.)"
I am so grateful to you for having shared such an intimate glimpse into your childhood and familial relationships. I know there is one proud papa gazing down at you with happy tears in his heavenly eyes saying, "that's my girl." And I am thrilled that the jewelry, purchased with such love and excitement has finally fallen into your loving embrace.
A heartfelt Bravissima❤️🤠💕🐰
1st Apr 2024 11:44pm
A long dynamic poem...
Just like an engine it converts verses into motion...
... or motion into verses...
Sentimental or not,...
... what you think about the world around you does not affect your life and overall well-being.
"... My smile— one I've practiced for years
hid my real feelings perfectly.
Not one indication slips through
of a truth that lies beneath... ... "
... ... ... ...
Just like an engine it converts verses into motion...
... or motion into verses...
Sentimental or not,...
... what you think about the world around you does not affect your life and overall well-being.
"... My smile— one I've practiced for years
hid my real feelings perfectly.
Not one indication slips through
of a truth that lies beneath... ... "
... ... ... ...
7th May 2024 3:14am
I recall enjoying your writing the first time you shared this story…another nice version!,
