No matter how much we try, the things we witness cannot be erased. We may try our best to tuck certain memories away depending on their pleasantness, but they’ll always be there, with us, a part of us, regardless of our acknowledgment. My entire life I have been a witness to the unending depth of my mother’s love. Her actions, not words, revealed the place I have in her heart. Simultaneously I witnessed the void that existed in my father’s heart where love for me should have existed. Overflowing love and empty love pulled at me from each side, begging to be the owner of my soul and influence my future. Silence and absence sometimes touch us more profoundly than noise or company.
In solitude my imagination ran wild, drawing conclusions to what my father told me with his absence. I witnessed things despite being TOLD I did not witness them. I witnessed the consequences infidelity had on the woman whose heart was broken and the child whose father was pulled away by temptation. For a long time, my observations were meaningless, except for the hardening of a piece of my heart and a growing distaste for the male gender. As I got older the meaning of certain events was brought to light and silence no longer terrorized me.
I am a witness that love – true love – knows no boundaries and has the power to move mountains. I am a witness that the end of a chapter does not mean the end of a story. My mother’s love for me triumphed over the loss felt by her broken heart. My mother’s love for me fueled her to provide for me alone, despite my existence being a decision made by two willing parents. My mother’s love for me gave her a reason to exist when the list to give up was endless. My mother’s love for me pushed her to stand up for justice and fight to give me a future brighter than most parents I know have been able to give their children. I am a witness that justice sometimes conquers wrongdoings, we only need to give fate time. Not that we should ever wish maladies on anyone, but time can enlighten us to God’s sweetest blessings that are the fruit of our sourest moments.
The good news is we can witness the existence of what is undetected by the eye but felt with the heart. I am a witness to my mother’s unfailing love. I am a witness that we can tap into a source greater than ourselves to find strength. I am a witness that love can prevail.