I have long been fascinated with the idea of bearing witness. In the spiritual sense, it is to testify or proclaim beliefs that feel almost too overwhelming not to share, or even bear. But for the purpose of this piece, I think of it as a participatory person who was part of your shared experience and holds your memories with you and even for you. Witnesses play a valuable role in our lives, elevating our experience and sometimes adding to our shame or pain if there are things we would rather go unseen. But witnesses can also share our burden, while simultaneously making our experiences more based in reality (“you saw that, right?”).
One aspect of grieving that is particularly difficult is that we lose a witness, not a casual outside observer but someone who was able to bear witness with us as we experienced triumphs and tragedies, joys, laughter, and moving moments. When my mother died a few years ago, I was struck by the sense that many memories of my childhood, of my infant toddler/self, would be lost with the passing of my special witness. Sibling loss can be particularly hard for that reason since the perspective of the witness is similar to your own and can be called upon to help you remember what might have been forgotten.
To have a witness is to be seen – it is to take whatever otherwise solitary experience might be distorted or fade with time and make it “real.” It is important in our lives to find a witness to help hold us, bear our sorrow, cheer us on, experience our growth. It does not have to be a family member or a partner; it can be a friend, counselor, mentor, colleague or teacher. As we busily hurry through our harried and sometimes isolated lives, it can be helpful to ask who is your witness and who are you willing to show up for and bear witness to. Bearing witness deepens our lives, as we feel seen and connected to, in our shared experience.