If Stones Could Speak

I have just finished a rather long and tedious move here within Antwerp to a new apartment, one closer to my daughter's new school and one that is bigger for her to have more of her own space when she is with me, which is important for a young child finding her way.

Although  have moved out of the famous Zurenborg neighborhood, epitomized by the Cogels-Osy Lei, and the community-driven Dageraadsplaats, both of which are dear to my heart and mind, I have gained things for other losses.

One of the best aspects of living where I do now is that I am nearly a stone's throw from the Middelheim sculpture "museum" and the Nachtegalen Park, where my daughter loves to go play after school. So, as with all things in life, when we lose something, there is a void, but as we also know, nature abhors a vacuum (as do cats...wait for it), so that void must be filled somehow. For me, this is a good way to fill a void, for it is a very peaceful place to go and walk and just let Time go by.

The first time that I went to Middelheim was exactly 20 years ago, almost to the date, when I was in a study abroad program at UFSIA (now part of the University of Antwerp). The coordinators of the program told us about it and as far as I know, not many others took them up on it. However, I went several times that year, during different seasons, and it was a very peaceful escape from the sometimes frenetic city center.

However, though the seasons changed, the statues did not. And, over the past 20 years, I have returned several times, and though I have changed, and the seasons, I still see the same, familiar faces, and of course the newer additions.

Twenty years down the road, it was a very special feeling to be there with my daughter again. We have been a few times before, but this time, it was in my neighborhood, and not merely a trip to the park as a destination, but was actually part of where I now live.

I wondered about those statues and all that they have "seen." How many others have gone there over the years, their lives moving ever towards the Autumn of our lives, and the statues stare mutely on at us.  What could they say, not changing, or at least at a much slower rate than we are, for of course, one day too they will "die." But, what would Rodin's mantled figure have to say to us who rush around all day, chasing our tails, only to wake up again the next day, one day older, and perhaps none the wiser?

A question of course with no answer. But as I was watching my daughter size up her photo of this same statue, I looked at it, and wondered what it was saying...perhaps, "I know you...you've been here before..." and like Shelley's Ozymandias, we shall all one day fall, but perhaps we can do so not in vain.