I was unaware that a routine visit to my mother’s grave would completely upend my life. But when I witnessed a stranger discarding the flowers I had lovingly placed there, that’s just what happened. I had no idea that the unexpected revelation that I had a sister would result from this chance encounter.

 

For weeks, I had been visiting my parents’ graves and putting fresh flowers on my mother’s. But while my dad’s remained the same, I kept finding them gone. They appeared to have been removed intentionally.

 

 

 

 

When I arrived early one morning, I observed a woman carelessly discarding flowers from my mother’s grave because I was determined to locate the person responsible. I approached her with strong emotions. I questioned, “Why are you doing this?”

 

Her response surprised me. She smiled at them and added, “Your mother wouldn’t mind sharing.” But I was truly taken aback by what she said next: “I’m her daughter too.”

 

My entire universe collapsed. Is it feasible? Had my mother concealed something so profound from me? I assumed the woman in front of me was my sister, and she looked as upset as I did.

 

 

The truth began to settle in, even though I was still astonished, upset, and hurt. However, there was something in her remarks that resonated with me. We were both harmed by another agonizing untruth that had been withheld from us for too long.

 

“But perhaps we don’t have to constantly harm one another.” Like a thin line between two strangers sliced by blood, my words lingered in the air.

 

As we stood there, the burden of our common history began to fade. We started conversing and exchanging emotions and anecdotes. As time passed, the hurt of the past gradually gave way to a sense of connection and understanding.

 

I found a sister and a piece of myself when I unexpectedly met someone. Although it would be difficult, I had faith that we would overcome the hurts of our shared history by moving forward step by step.