As hinted at yesterday, my birthday proceeded as normal. I enjoyed my cake, went to work, and that weekend, I started my standard chores.
That meant things like mowing.
Among the emails was a mysterious message from a “J. Smith”.
Yeah, that has to be a fake name.
Except it wasn’t.
Instead, we exchanged messages first on the website where I had left breadcrumbs 13 years ago (and thankfully still had the same email address).
Then phone numbers for texting.
And suddenly I was getting pictures. Confirmation of a biological past that I thought was closed to me for all time.
That’s right. My biological family had found me!
The breadcrumbs, after 13 years, had finally borne fruit.
If there’s a question, those are my baby footprints.