Triggers

They are every where this week...it has not been an easy week. Ironically this has nothing to do with hormones (do not start the next cycle's meds for a week or two, no where near PMS time).

It is all grief. There have been lots of tears and very little I can do about it. I have no choice but to surrender to my feelings.

Today was supposed to be a stellar day...it was a staff development day and every year the art teachers in my district take a field trip in to NYC to visit one of the major museums and write a lesson plan/unit based on something we see. This year we went to Metropolitan Museum of Art and there is always lots to see. I also planned a lunch date with my hubby which was an added bonus. Sounds perfect...except it wasn't. Don't get me wrong, it was a pretty good day. But grief added to the cloudy autumn day.

I am usually all for bringing children of all ages to a museum...start them young! It seemed like there was an awful lot of little boys in the 6-10 month range (the should be age of my boys had they been born on their due date through their birth/death days). I could keep it together seeing them, but it made me want to be carrying one of my boys in a sling and pushing the other in an umbrella stroller. (Sigh)

On the way to meet hubby for lunch I decided to cross through Central Park to catch the train down to Wall Street. Again...lots of strollers but it wasn't until I reached the saxophonist playing under the bridge that I became unhinged. He was playing a slow version of "Somewhere Under the Rainbow" that made my heart ache and the tears flow. Thank goodness for large sunglasses and a tiny hint of sun on an otherwise cloudy day to hide my tears and I crossed through one of my favorite places on earth. It was too much to keep inside.

By the time I got to the subway I had pulled myself together enough to take off my sunglasses and get downtown to enjoy a yummy lunch. Tempura cheesecake...a nice way to end a lunch! (They are mini-cheesecake squares coated in tempura breading and lightly fried) After lunch I went back up town for more time at the museum.

There were a few art works that I stumbled upon that reflected my mood so well I wanted to share them. First I turned face to face with The Massacre of the Innocents by Francois Joseph Navez.

This woman is holding her dead child and clearly is mourning her loss. And in her I see me. Here is a detail...

 She is not sobbing, she is crying and looking lost. Oh how I can relate!

On my way out I passed through a hall with a number of sculptures (mostly studies for larger works) by Rodin. The one that pulled me in was Fallen Caryatid Carrying a Stone.

Her burden is heavy and the description tag (which I generally avoid reading to rely on my own observations rather than an art historian, but on occasion I like to learn more) and the last line stopped me in my tracks...

"The variant seems less weighed down by her stone than by some unsupportable loss or nameless agony of the soul."

Yup...I have an agony of my soul, and it has a name. It is a loss that feels too heavy to carry, but I have no choice. For the rest of my days I will have this feeling as a part of me. Some days it is more pronounced. But it is there always.

I have a feeling the time between now and December 4th and 5th are going to be rough going.