This is me; calm, standing in the crowd knowing that
everything will fall in to place.
Like dominos set up to get tipped
over you stand unknowingly that the start is the beginning of the end. How is
it possible that you do not remember me? You have seen me a thousand times
before, and I have looked straight in to your eyes. Still, you call me by a
name that is not mine.
I remember the city of Florence
and the beautiful summers the seven of us spent running through the wheat
harvest. I was just Lisa then, fifteen and the eldest of us all; unknowingly, still
so young. Who would have known that between then and now lifetimes would set us
apart…
Things were not so easy then, but
my Francesco and I were in love. The day I put on my white dress, I was ready
to give it all; to become a mother of a child who had lost his own at
childbirth, to leave my family and create a family of my own. This was the
first time my name had changed. I was no longer just Lisa, but I had become Ms.
Lisa del Giocondo; A name that I wore well.
I then came to realize that there
was nothing my Francesco would deny me and nothing I would deny him. People
were egger to meet the third wife of Francesco di Bartolomeo di Zanobi del
Giocondo, whom some called a woman of virtue.
I could hear their whispering and
see their stares behind my black Spanish veils, just like I hear and see yours
now. But I do not answer, neither do I flinch.
Some of you find my silence
intriguing and wonder what is behind my calm composed smile. Others look for a moment before looking away.
A year later I gave birth to my first
born Piero, and then came the birth of my eldest daughter Camilla. Camilla reminded
me of myself being the eldest sister after I gave birth to Andrea, Giocondo,
and Marietta. But Camilla was most ostentatious as I never was and the
gentlemen were quite fond of her in spite of my daughter’s placement in to the
convent life. Not long after Camilla’s seventeen birthday she was laid to rest.
Despite the loss of my eldest
daughter my family continued to grow respectfully strong with Francesco being
now an official in Florence. My husband’s family took a great liking toward me
and even though I was never considered beautiful, I was always admired for
poise and subtle gesture.
Then came that day, where I was
sitting still and in silence when a piece of my soul got frozen in time.
After that, many years went by…
My Francesco was locked up and I stood as head of the family for many years.
People whispered harsh words as they would pass me by and speak the worst of my
husband’s name. But we were stronger than them, and even though my love was
locked away he had foreseen to take care of me and our family’s future.
Francesco came back to me after
so long. But it still felt like it was yesterday. Time and space have no
meaning now as I sit here with my one hand placed over the other looking at you
pass by.
I am happy that you see me as I was
then. Before I fell ill and before I grew old. Before the loss of my one and
only love which left lines on my face.
And as a talented artist once saw
me, as a woman of poise; this is how I will be remembered.
You may not know my real name.
You might not now my story or understand that once I was just like you. But you
will always see me smile proudly in memory of my family’s name and the name of
my beloved Francesco.
Call me Mona.
You have seen me once, and you
will see me many times more.
Title: Mona Lisa
Story: By Natasha G - January 2013
Painting: By Leonardo Da Vinci
