ABSTRACT
My parents always tried to tell me the truth about my adoption, although I perceived it differently at different times in my life and it always contained conundrums. I want to start with my 54th birthday. We are opening my cards and presents. Among them and saved to last is a large brown envelope that arrived two days previously. The address is handwritten in a script I do not immediately recognise. It could be that of any of a number of friends. Rather more intriguingly there is a message in the top left hand corner: ‘This is not a circular. Not to be opened until 28th November’. Almost certainly the message is what has promoted the envelope to be the last to be opened. I do so and extract a booklet that is bound like a student dissertation and a letter. The booklet is entitled ‘The Smith Family Tree’, and within a few seconds of looking at the letter, my partner, who is reading it over my shoulder, says, ‘You know who this is from, don’t you? It’s your mother’.
