Only you, dearest mother, do I still recall with feelings of the most heartfelt love and deepest emotion; - I know only too well that children go their own way, - they think only of themselves & their future, and of the people around them who provide a link between the two; that is how it is & it is something I feel myself, there is a time when separation becomes inevitable; - we then conduct our reciprocal relationships solely from a standpoint of superficiality; we become diplomats joined together by ties of friendship, - we remain silent where it seems politic to do so, - and speak when our view of the affair demands it, and we speak most of all when we are separated from each other. Ah, but how greatly a mother’s love transcends all that! I think I, too, am one of those people who cannot always say what they feel in their hearts at a given moment, - otherwise you would often have encountered a more tenderhearted side to my nature. But my feelings remain the same, - & look mother, now that I am no longer beside you, I am overcome by feelings of gratitude for the glorious love of which you recently gave your son such heartfelt and earnest proofs, so much so that I might well be tempted to write and speak of them in the most tender tones of a lover addressing his beloved. Ah, but far greater - is not a mother’s love far greater, far more unsullied than that other love? - No, I do not intend to wax philosophical here, - I wish only to thank you, & to thank you yet again, - I wish I could enumerate all the individual tokens of your love for which I have cause to be grateful, - but it would take too long to do so. Yet I know that there is no heart which follows my every move with such sincere interest & such solicitous concern as does your own, - nay, it is perhaps the only heart that watches over my every step, - & not with the intention of passing unfeeling judgement on all that I do, - no, rather is it your wish to include me in your prayers. Were you not the only one to remain unflinchingly loyal to me, when others, judging me simply by external events, turned their back on me with a philosophical gesture of dismissal? I should be intemperately presumptuous if I were to demand the same degree of love from everyone, I know well enough that that is not possible - I know that for myself. - Everything comes straight from your heart, from your dear, kind heart, which I pray God may always remain well disposed towards me, - for I know that if all else fails, it will always remain my final & dearest refuge. Oh mother, if you were to die prematurely, before I could give you adequate proof that your love had been bestowed upon a noble recipient, whose gratitude knows no bounds! No, that cannot be, you must live to enjoy many more fine fruits of your love! - Ah, when I recall the final week we spent together! It is a source of perfect consolation & comfort to me to recall to mind the many demonstrations of your loving kindness! My dear, dear mother, - how pitiable I should be if my feelings towards you were ever to grow cold! -
[...]
Source: Selected Letters of Richard Wagner, trans. and ed. Stewart Spencer and Barry Millington (W. W. Norton & Company, 1988), No. 12