Eternal Springtime
Valentine’s Day was coming up and I thought I would spend a few days in Washington DC, to enjoy several museums. One of the things that I love most these days. I happened to be checking out a local calendar of events page, and came across the Rodin Museum, in Philadelphia. Since Philly is on my way to DC, I planned a stop. It would mean that I would have to leave the house at 8am, allow myself just an hour or so there, and then continue down to DC. My husband’s final resting place is Arlington National Cemetery, and this time of year they close at 5pm. This would allow me a few hours to visit.
I was greeted at the museum by some of Auguste Rodin’s most famous sculptures. There was, The Thinker, as I made my way up to the main entrance. To the left of the entry way were The Gates of Hell, from where The Thinker, and many other sculptures were conceived, then repurposed and executed as stand alone casts. Many of you are probably familiar with The Kiss. There were numerous examples of others throughout the museum. But the one that stunned me was a piece entitled, Eternal Springtime. While this piece was originally planned as part of The Gates of Hell, it for whatever reason, didn’t make the cut.
Perhaps it was too perfect. Unlike the other characters on the wall, these exhibited no anguish, contemplation or tribulation. Like in the more famous, The Kiss, also represented in the bottom right of the larger piece, there are two bodies. But these are more passionate and they move in concert as one. Of course this reminds me of the great love my husband and I shared. The kind of love where one ends and the other begins. I am fully aware of just how rare it is.
The sculpture is protected by glass. I start to move around the sculpture to take more photos and something begins to happen. The light from a nearby window starts to obscure the sculpture. It’s then I see something that perfectly depicted what happened the day my husband left this world. When his physical self stopped being and his spiritual self moved to a world we can’t see or touch. Something I could never put into words.
What happened on that day was that half of me slowly slipped away. I couldn’t stop it. I couldn’t then, nor can I still, process it. Much like the pictures shows, a part of my heart left with him that day. There is no bandaid, no surgery, not even therapy that knows how to fix the mess that was made that day.
People would ask me if I could feel him in the room with me. I could not. In my mind I couldn’t imagine him being where he is and wanting to be back in this world. Would you? In my mind, it would be more logical that he is not there. But it bothered me. Why do people swear they feel the one’s they lost, in the room, but I can’t. What’s wrong with me? Then one day it dawned on me. I can’t feel him in the room because he’s inside of me, not next to me.
After the initial shock, which probably wasn’t for a few years, I begin to slowly morph into what we were together. And much like the picture, though part of the physical sculpture is missing, if you look hard you can still see the outline of both figures. Nothing is completely gone. It’s just an illusion.
I won’t lie and say it’s ever going to be the same. But it’s better now. Oddly enough, social media has helped as a bandaid of sorts. Here I have made friends, who also aren’t IRL. But they have over the past few years, inspired me, motivated me, made me laugh again, reminded me to be kind, reminded me when it’s time to fight, reminded me of who I once was.
I hope each of you have someone in your life to share this special Valentine’s Day with. But if not, don’t worry, this is just a holiday made up by the card companies. In a way, this day doesn’t bother me anymore. Because I have decided to give love to strangers on a daily basis. To try to see the good in them. To encourage them, to notice them, to engage in conversation with them. I watched Fred do this all the time and the lasting impact that he had in this world. So if you don’t have anyone today, just try this. When you are out walking today, make eye contact with people. Smile and say hello. If you are in a line somewhere, strike up a conversation, or maybe notice someone on social media and don’t just pass their post by without a like or a comment. Making someone’s day will make yours.
Happy Valentine’s Day to all.
