Three generations of ADOPTION

I’ve known I was adopted for as long as I can remember. My mother used to weave the subject subtly into childhood bedtime stories, so I think at some level, I was always aware of it.

When I was five, she gave me a more detailed explanation of how I had come to be in our family. I was too young for the words to truly resonate; I went off and played in the garden, with no real understanding of what I’d been told.

I had a vision of a shop where the shelves are lined