veracity - noun - the quality of being true, accurate, or honest (Merriam-Webster)
Although I have a feeling that I confessed this truth before, I appreciate funerals more than weddings. (You might want to read my blog on how the two compare.) I apologize if I am coming across as morbid, but if funerals include more than one eulogy (as in the case of Jewish memorials), they can be informative, if not downright enlightening. From the eulogies, sometimes bitingly candid, I usually learn more about the deceased than I knew prior to his/her passing. Conversely, weddings are innocuous fluff as the speeches given purport to induce laughter as opposed to education, which makes sense given the occasion. But no matter how exposing the exposition is at either celebration, is it possible to see the veracity of what has been kept unseen?
In life, there are those who wear masks, hiding secrets that they believe will never be revealed, and those who prefer to be naked, metaphorical exhibitionists who are not afraid to revel in veracity regardless of whether or not others may find their candor offensive. Yet it is on the masqueraders that I wish to focus. Grifters at heart, they tread lightly and whisper half-truths, fooling friends and family as they sideline expectations and allude negative judgements. (It must be exhausting to be a successful pretender.) They are so good at deception that once exposed, no one wants to believe the factual evidence against them as it appears too farfetched. (Unable to take responsibility, the "victims"–usually guilty–use "I was framed" as their standard retort. It is no doubt overly used in prisons.)
Two cases in point: I know of two sisters; the younger actually stole the identity of the elder, meaning she took her name, her resume, her credit cards, etc., and made good use of them. Delusional, the guilty party who never served time for her crime is most likely under the impression that few know about her misdeed. She hides behind her beauty that has allowed her room to be dishonest. Another pretender is someone I've known for fifty-some years, a teacher from a good family, well educated and seemingly together. Recently, he spent a month or two in rehab, recovering from thirty years of crack use, an egregious habit he hid from all until it nearly killed him. When I found out about it, I didn't want to believe the reality as it was incongruent; it just didn't fit into the equation. How could someone in a position of reverence be living a double life? Like many, he became lost in his masquerade, finally removing the mask before it destroyed him. By taking responsibility as opposed to playing the victim, he regained respect he had lost from friends and family and is doing well in the present. Thank Goodness!
Getting back to the funerals for a sec, what dozens have taught me over the years is that we can never know the entirety of a person, not even if that person is a close relation. Each individual composes his/her own play, conveniently editing out revelatory, potentially damning asides that he/she, the main character, should relay, yet doesn't to save himself/herself from what he/she might just deserve: a reckoning with veracity and the aftermath that follows.
In this life, there is the seen and unseen, the two are locked in an invisible competition. Seen should remember that sooner or later, Unseen will be exposed. Most likely, there will be a high price to pay. So yes, to answer the initial question, the unseen can be seen. Yet another question remains: Will the onlookers accept the truth about a person's dark, unseen side when it leaks out into the light to be seen?
#veracity, #seen vs. unseen, #truth, #blogger, #personal essay, #blog
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