Boston's Irish Famine Memorial
In a little square in downtown Boston, there's a memorial for the Irish famine. There are two statues; one shows a family of three dying of hunger (pictured) and the other shows the same family full of hope (which I presume is after they've fled to Boston). In the statue on hope, the family is rather well-dressed, they appear striding forward, yet looking off in different directions. In the hunger statue, the mother's hands are reaching up as if pleading with God. The father and son are hopeless, with hands open as if waiting for help. Their food basket is empty.
When I saw this, I couldn't help but see distinct identities and the parallels to my own life. I viewed them all as one unit, just as I view myself as a dissociative. Often we can have hope one minute and despair the next and often they can exist at the same time. There is old and young, male and female, those who protect and those who are hopeless.
But, it is who we are as a whole that is most important. As a whole we do not give up. As a whole we march forward, sometimes into the dark forest of the unknown. As a whole we speak our pain. As a whole we search for truth. As a whole we mend our heart. As a whole we search for love. As a whole we heal.