When I was just eight months old, my mom stepped away from my life. Growing up, my dad told me she never reached out, and so I never met her, never spoke to her, and never even saw a picture of her as an adult. To me, she was only a name — someone who existed, but not really part of my world.About a year ago, while working at the law firm, I noticed a familiar name on the appointment list. At first, I thought it was just coincidence.
But when the door opened and she walked in, something inside me just knew — it was her.My heart raced, and for a moment, I couldn’t move. For years, I had wondered what I would do if I ever saw her. Would I turn away? Would I have the courage to speak? Instead, I just sat there quietly, unsure how to begin.She didn’t recognize me right away
. To her, I was simply another employee behind a desk. But as I confirmed her appointment, she looked at me a little longer than usual. Finally, she asked gently, “What’s your name?”When I told her, I saw her eyes fill with tears. She covered her mouth, and for a brief moment, it felt like time had stopped.That encounter didn’t change everything, but it opened a door. We spoke briefly — carefully and nervously — like two people connected by a past we had never shared.
She told me she had thought about me every single day, but life had taken her down a path she wished had been different.I don’t know what role, if any, she will play in my future. But that moment taught me something important: life gives us unexpected meetings, and they aren’t always about closure or final answers. Sometimes, they are about realizing that people are more complex than the stories we grow up believing.