Friday, June 28, 2019

Sistine Madonna

As my father has gotten older, he has slowly embraced understanding life's value. It wasn't as if he had avoided the idea through much of his life, but that in his retirement years, he knew he needed to get outside of his boxed-up world and see what else is out there before it's too late. So, with his passport in one hand and a map in the other, he began to gallivant around the planet. From Ireland to the UK, from the mid-west of the US to Canada, from the Everglades to Cuba, my father set his sights on his bucket list and began checking things off.

Not long ago, my father decided that he wanted to include his children in his worldly adventures, so he graciously offered to take each of us wherever we wanted to go. When it came time for us to decide, we wavered between returning to Ireland, seeing Iceland, or going all out by traveling to New Zealand. We just couldn't decide. Even Germany, the Czech Republic, and Switzerland were on our radar. But it wasn't until I had an epiphany one day as I sifted through a sea of travel brochures that I knew where we were going to go. As my father sat there open and willing to go anywhere I wanted, I shamefully never once thought about what he wanted. Fortunately, it wasn't too late so no cardinal sin of selfishness was committed. I then asked him, "What's at the top of your bucket list, Pop?"

"Venice," he replied. Now, at the time, my brother and his family were thinking Italy, but they balked at the trip because they felt their teenaged kids might not enjoy it as much as traveling somewhere else. Once I had my brother's assurance that he and his family weren't interested, my dad and I started to plan our trip. About a year later, we landed in Rome to begin our northern tour of Italy. From Rome, we visited the Isle of Capri, Florence, Pisa, and then finally Venice. It was the most amazing trip I have ever taken and I will never forget the experience. Italy is a magical country literally filled with ancient history that no human alive should ever miss. At no point were my eyes bored of what they were seeing.

Venice was the final city we visited. I wanted it to go that way because I wanted my dad's final moments in Italy to be in the most important bucket-listed destination. One day, we were informed that one of our scheduled tours of a local site was postponed so we had a whole evening to kill. When you're in such an awe-inspiring place, it can feel overwhelming. There are just so many things to do and to see that your mind goes haywire trying to pick something. That's when I suggested that we take advantage of our multiple-day water taxi pass, find a boat with seats up along the bow, and just enjoy the cruise in and around Venice and its neighboring islands. And so we did. It was relaxing, breathtaking, and the most poignant moment of our trip. Not just because of what we were seeing and enjoying, but because the idea of my dad's bucket list and us being in the one city he wanted to see the most all culminated in that one experience.


Sistine Madonna, by Raffaello Sanzio da Urbino (a.k.a. Raphael—1483-1520), is an oil on canvas painting of Mary, the mother of Jesus, holding the baby Jesus in her arms, flanked by Saint Sixtus and Saint Barbara, and being observed by two cherubim. It was a piece that was commissioned by Pope Julius II in 1512 in honor of his father, Pope Sixtus IV, to be set as an altarpiece in San Sisto, Piacenza. It is also one of the last Madonnas painted by Raphael who is one of the most talented artists of all time.

The haunting yet soothing image is remarkable in detail, and has long been adored for its implied hope. So much so, that in 1754, Augustus III of Poland purchased it and had it relocated to Dresden. There, it sparked many positive cultural and religious debates, and was hailed as being "divine" and "supreme among the world's paintings". What often goes unnoticed, though, is the sea of cherubim that surround Mary and Jesus. Overall, it's composition, detail, and inviting colors give most viewers a sense of calm and order; a sense of eternal significance and of wonderment.

Whether you believe in an after-life or not, knowing that the life you have now is the only one you get isn't too difficult a thing to conceive. And as my father likes to say, everyone has to face their own mortality at some point, and death is 100% for all. His sage words got me thinking about my own bucket list. Currently in a rather scrambled state, I definitely do spend time contemplating about the places I'd like to see before I have to face death. Most of the time, I'm adding things to my rudimentary list as they arise in conversation or have been inspired by something I've seen. Ireland (I'm Irish by blood), Iceland, Germany, Switzerland, France, Italy (again, please!), New Zealand, Vietnam, Malaysia, French Polynesia, Fiji, Costa Rica, Madagascar . . . my list goes on and on. Like I said, it's a scrambled mess, but after my experiences in Italy with my dad and thinking about his beloved bucket list which is growing shorter and shorter as time passes on, the value of all of this world's beauty has exponentially grown. I cannot wait to see things I never thought I'd ever see.

My dad won't live forever, I know this. As much as my heart aches at the thought of life without him around, I'm also reminded that the life he's led has helped influence me to be who I am today. If I were to boil down all of my dad's fathering qualities into one singular outcome in me, I'd have to say curiosity. Through his leadership, discipline, sense of adventure, and willingness to appreciate this gigantic world around us, I'm now someone who has to sate his curious nature through mediums such as this. You wouldn't be reading my blog if it weren't for my dad's influence upon my life. And now I get to further my curiosity by growing my own bucket list which I too hope to significantly shrink over time.

Pop, I hope you know that every adventure I go on, I dedicate to you. As my curiosity finds satisfaction, it will be in your honor. Thank you for this wonderful gift that never stops giving.