Mona Lisa

This is me; calm, standing in the crowd knowing that everything will fall in to place.  

Like dominoes 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 know 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