Pietà

For years I have been drawn to Michelangelo's Pieta. I would find myself lost in photos of the sculpture for hours when I should have been studying other works of art. I would compare how I saw my own features to those of the Madonna. Her downcast eyes were so beautiful to me. Pain seemed to radiate from her body. But her pain was not one of hopelessness to me, it seemed more like an expression of love. A love felt so deeply, that when her son's lifeless body was set upon her lap they seemed to become one. The sacrifice that they both made released the two bodies from their earthly ties and bound them forever in the truest of bonds; the love between a mother and child. The peace on each of their faces is what I want for us, Frost. Mary cradled her grown son as an infant, with the knowledge that the loss had a meaning beyond tears. I need to find our meaning.
Today, on your day, the day we expected you, I felt the urge to look at the Pieta again. I hadn't for so long, but today I needed to. I found a calm peace in it.
Night, night Frost
Mama loves you.