Why?

Yesterday was a day for wondering, wondering tinged with sadness. When I was in younger, I went to the World's Fair which was in New York City at the time. I don't recall all of the modern wonders that we saw there but there is one thing that was permanently etched in my mind. I stood in the long lines and eventually got to see Michaelangelo's Pieta. I was overwhelmed by the man's ability to turn stone into such a moment. The moment has stayed with me all of these years. The sadness of Mary and the almost stunned look on her face. The sadness and the artist's ability to capture it in stone led to a lifetime of interest in great art. The sadness was amplified exponentially when my own children were born. How that woman had to watch her own son be so horribly executed. It was as if she had chosen to withdraw from life and suffering. Even as I type this, the feeling washes over me. It is not the sadness of her face but the look of almost totally abandoning everything. I think that I remember reading that she and Mary Magdalene went to Cyprus to live out the rest of their lives. Cyprus, the homeland of Astarte? There is much to ponder over such a move.
Yesterday I put a Christmas CD on the computer. It is Luciano Pavarotti's "O Holy Night". He sings Ave Maria in Italian. I don't understand Italian but the feeling came rushing back over me. I once had a CD of Barbra Streisand singing Ave Maria but I had to abandon it because I became so morose after listening to it that I would cry for some time. How Mary must have suffered holding the body of her son after all that she had witnessed. Perhaps the thought "That's enough, I cannot take any more.". That's enough, the springs of the eyes are awakening again.
Christmas is a time of hope and joy. There is Santa and Rudolph and lights and cookies and the tree and the glow of wonder in the faces of the children. There is Jingle Bells and the power of Adeste Fidelus and the portent of the Drummer Boy and the mission of the Magi. Then there is Ave Maria.
I was raised as a Roman Catholic. There is much to the Chuch that I have come to ignore. The Church holds Mary in a very special place. I can never ignore the look on her face in the Pieta. I don't think that the artist could either. Perhaps that is the reason that it was the only work that he ever signed. It was his legacy to us.