My mom stepped away from being a parent when I was just 8 months old. Growing up, my dad told me she never reached out, so I never met her, never spoke to her, and never even saw a photo of her as an adult. To me, she was just a name—someone who existed, but not really in my world.About a year ago, while working at a law firm, I noticed a familiar name on the schedule for an appointment. At first, I thought it was just a coincidence. But when the door opened and she walked in, something inside me knew—it was her.
My heart raced and I froze. For years, I had wondered what I would do if this moment ever came. Would I be upset? Would I look the other way? Instead, I just sat there quietly, unsure of what to say. She didn’t recognize me at first—just another employee behind a desk. But as I confirmed her appointment, I caught her looking at me more closely. Finally, she asked softly, “What’s your name?”
When I told her, her eyes filled with tears. She covered her mouth, and for a moment it felt as though time had stopped. We spoke briefly—carefully, almost like strangers—but with a shared past neither of us knew how to fully touch. She told me she had thought about me every single day, but life had led her down a different path.
I don’t know yet what role she will play in my future, if any. But that meeting reminded me of something important: life gives us moments we never expect. And sometimes those moments are not about closure or answers, but about realizing that people are more complex than the stories we grow up believing about them.