An uncle lived up on the hill so knocking on his door led to me two days later walking up the path of a 1930's semi in a market town in North Yorkshire and announcing to the rather elderly lady who answered the door that I was ,in fact, her granddaughter.
Would I do it again ? I don't know. Not a Hollywood ending for sure far too much heartache for that but I did connect with my roots and family genes which was a revelation.
And now I am a grandmother myself - five weeks already. I am thinking about Edith Mary and how her life was so very different from my own. Yet at the same time we share so many interests talents and aspects of our lives.
Oh! and by the way she did have my mother's white satin baby shoes tucked away at the back of her bureau...