Previously:

l've always known I was adopted, but in 2003, at the age of fifty-one, I decided to find my birth mother. After a short search with plenty of help, I found her in California.
I travelled over from Scotland, where I lived at the time, and stood on her doorstep. She let me in, and we hit it off right away.

She told me the story of my American father, who had to leave for faraway shores with the Merchant Marine. He promised to write, and Mum received a few letters. She then realised that she was pregnant, and wrote numerous letters, but never received an answer.
It was with a heavy heart that she gave me up for adoption right after my birth in May 1952.

Mum had left for Heidelberg, Germany to work and to mend, when she met George. They fell in love and left for Denmark to marry in the autumn of 1954.

They had just arrived at my grandmother's home after the wedding when she handed my Mum a letter, saying that was the last letter that had arrived from my Mum's American lover.
It turned out that there'd been eight or nine letters prior to that, but my Grandmother had burned them all.

George and my Mum left at once and checked into a hotel. In that last letter my father yet again asked why he hadn't heard anything and whether it was a boy or a girl they'd had. It was a last plea for Mum to answer. She decided against it as she'd just married George and was about to start a new life.

Mum told me that she'd decided to move back to Denmark. She revealed she had a half sister,
and a very good friend, with whom she'd never lost contact.

I had to leave to go back home to Scotland. On arrival, I'd received a letter telling me that the last known address of my father was in Jamaica. It also gave a surname I didn't recognise at all.

I went to Denmark with my best friend and the question about my father was yet again postponed.

Once back from Denmark, my life took an unexpected turn. I met my future husband, Alan, and we decided to move to Spain to live and sail. We went to visit Mum in the late autumn of 2003, and she provided me with the missing data of my father.

When we were back in Scotland, I entered the revised data on my father on the Internet, and dialled his number. It was very emotional and we spoke for the longest time, my father saying he'd always wanted a daughter. We agreed that I should write him a letter calling him back a couple of weeks later and we hung up.


Part Twenty-Six


I motioned for Alan to come and sit next to me, not yet knowing whether I was able to speak. It was as if a bubble of air was trapped in my mouth making it impossible.

Alan sat, took hold of my hand, caressing it gently, as he waited for my tears to subside. It had a wonderful soothing feel to it.

"Would you like me to bring you something a bit stronger than the cold coffee sitting there in front of you?"

I nodded and threw him a grateful smile. He rose, and a moment later was back handing me a glass of wine holding on to a glass of his own. We sat for a while in total silence, sipping our drink, both of us deep in our own thoughts. My tears were still flowing, but not as much as before, and I could feel myself calming down.

Alan watched me over the rim of his glass. "Do you want to tell me about it, Ulla, or are you not quite ready?"

I smiled through my tears. "It was just so emotional ... and ... and he sounds like such a fine man. I am to write him a letter telling him about myself and everything that will be relevant about Mum. We've agreed I'll phone him back in a couple of weeks' time and we'll take it from there."

Alan nodded. "Great idea and sensible too. Poor man, he's just heard from a long lost child. I don't blame him if he's in a bit of a shock. I admire him for his reaction though. You've maybe not fallen so far from the stem after all."

By now, I had fully recovered. I smiled throwing Alan a mischievous look. "Well, in that case I better give Mum a quick ring, she will be itching to hear how it went down. I promise I'll make it short. It's time we got something to eat. I don't know about you, but I'm starving."

Mum had indeed been waiting to hear from me, and was thrilled when she heard the news. She made me promise to keep her posted about future news.

The next couple of weeks passed in a whirlwind of preparations for our move to Spain. So much had to be ready. We were leaving for good, after all, and decisions had to be made what to bring along and what to part with. It was an exciting time.

And then, one day, it was time to phone my father, and yet again, I found myself a complete wreck. My hand trembled so badly that I missed hitting the right numbers having to redial a couple of times, but in the end I managed to get it right.

This time he answered on the second ring.

"Hello, Reuben, how are you?"

I tried hard to keep my voice from shaking and I felt like choking. I didn't know what to say, my brain gone all empty.

To my relief he sounded quite pleased to hear from me. I cleared my throat and found that I could speak after all.

"Did you receive my letter, Reuben?"

"Yes, Ulla, and I read it with great interest. It confirmed that you are indeed my daughter. There was far too much information that nobody else could possibly have known."

I sighed, and smiled at the phone. Phew, I thought, that was a big hurdle to have overcome. Now what?

Before I got a chance to say anything further, he continued.

"Ulla, I have thought this through very carefully and as I've already said, I accept that you are my daughter. I lack words to say how pleased I am about that fact. But ... at this moment in time I'm not quite prepared to meet you if that's what you had in mind."

My heart sank below stomach level and a sense panic set in. At the same time I knew I had to be strong and accept what was being said. It didn't make it any easier though. The disappointment swept over me like a dark blanket.

I tried to say something but my father was already talking again.

"That doesn't mean that I don't want to have anything to do with you. Quite the opposite. I would very much like to know you better. My suggestion is that I give you my e-mail address and we write to each other. That way we can get to know each other a bit more and the odd phone call would be good as well. What do you think? Will you go along on those terms?"

I felt my spirit lifting. So all was not lost. I tried to think on my feet.

"Reuben, that's a great idea. Lets do that. I certainly respect and understand that this can't be easy for you. I don't even know what your family situation is."

"Well, I divorced many years ago and have never remarried. I live with my older brother who moved in with me when he was widowed a few years back. I also have a son who lives in the State of New York, and I just don't feel ready to tell them about you. Well, at least not yet."

"I understand, Reuben. Let's do what you're suggesting and write to each other. That'll be great."

I got the details of the e-mail address and we said our fond good bye. As I put down the phone it dawned on me that I had a brother.

To be continued.