Top three emotional moments in Italia:
Florence.
Our
first day in Italy we visited the famous Uffizi Gallery of Florence. Walking
into a roomful of paintings, I found myself face-to-face with Botticelli’s Birth of Venus. My eyes filled with
tears as I realize this is no postcard, I am here standing before the original,
for real, in person and oh, isn’t she the epitome of pure beauty, la pura bellezza?
Rome.
In Rome’s Vatican City, we entered the
magnificent spiritual living church of St Peter’s Basilica, turned right into
the first chapel and walked up to The
Pieta. Even behind its protective wall of Plexiglas, Michelangelo Buonarroti’s
famous marble sculpture is instantly accessible, universally resonant. I stood
watching an oh-so-young Mary hold on her lap the lifeless, emaciated body of Jesus
after his Crucifixion. The sheer simplicity, beauty and pathos of The Pieta
brought me to tears that day and again as I write these words. As a mother, an
art lover, a member of the human race, what is more momentous than a mother
losing her child? Unlike so many
depictions of The Madonna and Christ, in this sculpture, Michelangelo portrays
no glory, no angels, no hint of resurrection, only the intimate profound sadness
of Mary holding her only son in her arms for the last time.
Volterra.
In
the hillside Tuscan town of Volterra, Peter and I walked into our hotel room to
find a bottle of champagne with two glasses. My first thought was, “Wow, nice
hotel”. Then we read the accompanying note: “Dear Mom and Dad, Hope you’re having an
amazing trip. Love Joel and Kelly”. Oh
my God, waterworks again. Yes, it is true that we used the occasion of our
can-you-believe-it 30th
wedding anniversary as an excuse to take a trip to undeniably romantic Italia, but
still yet, it is ironic that the most meaningful moment of this journey came in
the form of a thoughtful gesture of love and support from our progeny thousands
of miles away. ‘Twas indeed the icing on the tiramisu. And, like the other two
times I found myself moved to tears in the presence of greatness, these
children are incomparable works of art…yet we can hardly claim to be the artist.
