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I've always known that I was adopted. Then, in the year 2003, at reaching almost fifty one, I decided to look for my real mother. After a short but intense search, with help from an unexpected angle, I found out that my mother lived in California.

A month later I travelled from Scotland, where I lived at the time, to California where I knocked on her door. After some awkward moments she realised who I was and asked me to come in. An hour or so later she invited me to stay with her, which I gladly accepted.

We spent a lovely time that evening starting to bond. When she wished me goodnight she turned to me, and her last words were: "Ulla, I'm so glad you came."

Part Ten.

I woke early the next day and looked around the unfamiliar room. For a moment I didn't know where I was, but slowly it all came back to me. The daylight cast its bright shadows across the wall as it peeped through the half drawn curtains. I just lay there and watched, floating in that peculiar state of being almost awake yet still half asleep.

I heard noises from outside, and realised that my mother would already be up preparing breakfast for us both. I swung my legs out of the bed, stood and had a good stretch. It felt so good to be alive.

I quickly dressed while I reflected upon the previous day that had brought so much joy. Better to get out there, so we could get talking again. We had more than five decades to catch up on after all.

The minute I opened the door the lovely scent of freshly brewed coffee hit my nostrils. I took in a deep breath, and quickly made my way to the kitchen.

"Good morning, Mum, did you sleep OK?" I went over to her, and gave her a peck on her cheek. She turned and beamed at me.

"Honey, it's a long time since I've slept so well. Whether that has anything to do with you being here, I don't know. What I do know though, is that I'm starving... Again! ... Did you sleep all right?

"I slept like a log." I looked at her, and laughed out loud when I saw the food she was preparing. "Hey, are we expecting an army? I know I'm hungry as well, but this! I don't know if I can manage all that."

"Of course you can, and besides, you'll need it when we get to talk. And talk we will. I've got so many questions for you, and you'll have as many for me if not more. Last night we just scraped the surface. But, before we get started, I think you could help me set the table. What do you think?" Now it was Mum's turn to laugh, when she saw my face.

"Ah, come on, have a glass of juice and a cup of coffee first then."

I looked at her with affection, admiring her energy. I don't know whether she was a bit nervous, which would be understandable, but, as I grabbed my coffee, I gradually understood what she meant by needing fuel for what was going to be like running a marathon. Not that I'd ever run one.

I set the table, and brought the food over as it was handed to me. We sat down, and ate in complete silence, although pleasantly so and, when finished, we took the remainders to the sink. Mum turned to me with that special smile of hers that I was beginning to recognise.

"Say what, why don't we go down to the promenade, and I'll show you the bench I've dedicated to George, the one I told you about last night. The walk will do us good as well as the fresh air, and we can resume our talk." Mum looked at me with something akin to a child's expectation.

I smiled, giving her a squeeze. "What a wonderful idea. Let's get ready and go. The dishes can wait until later. Come on let's be off. I'd love to see George's bench and looking over the ocean will be the perfect setting."

We proceeded down to the ocean, and after a long walk with the soft wind caressing our faces, we returned to sit down on George's bench. We sat looking over the vast, but calm ocean, without uttering a word. Mum took my hand in hers and said. "Not only do I have a daughter now, but I'm also a grandmother. I can hardly believe it all. It's almost too much to take in." She looked at me, her eyes brimming with tears.

"You know, Ulla, I come here almost every day talking to him. George that is. He had his ashes spread in the sea, which I also would like mine to be. You see, I believe that wherever that might happen, all seas meet, and I will be united with my George."

I squeezed her hand, and we sat in complete silence for the longest time.

With an effort she sat up straight and exclaimed. "Now, enough of this. Let's go home, and sit on the terrace, and I'll tell you about your father. I did promise, and you ought to know. Beware though, it's a long story. So I suggest that we go to the local grocery first to get what we need for the next couple of days, and we can hole up!"

I looked at Mum with respect. She never ceased to surprise. What a spirit.

"That's a deal. On we go!"

When we got back, we packed everything in the fridge, filled the cupboards, and did the dish washing we had so carelessly left behind. We proceeded out on the terrace loaded with a bottle of white wine and two glasses. As Mum said, we would need the extra touch to celebrate the occasion. I thought for a moment what she could mean and suddenly realised that she might need some Dutch courage to tell me the story about my father. I admit that I didn't oppose the idea of having a wee glass myself.

We sat down at the table, and mum poured some wine into our glasses. She lifted hers acknowledging me, and I responded in like.

"Well, Ulla, 1951 started out with January being one of the coldest in living memory ..."


To Be Continued.