Between October 2017 and March 2019 I am in the research stage of this journey.
The teenager in me is buzzing.
The one who made a mystery club with her brother, neighbours and dog. (We would try and solve local problems in the town I grew up in. After a couple of days everyone rebelled and said I was making something out of dust.)
I am listening to This American Life. Some crime thriller, loaded on black coffee and a giddy heart.
The genealogist sent her final report. Ideas for new pathways I could walk so to work out what family we may have left. And where. I find their address and I find their number, on google, just sat there like a birthday cake waiting to be devoured. My mother’s cousins.
They were so over the moon when I called. I explained the project, filled in the parts that they had lost along the way.
And lunch, at their house,
That was a celebration in its most majestic form