Our Story

I grabbed Cliff’s hand. This was it. Ibeen waiting so long and now It sure I was ready.

, Kristin, you have been longing to meet hersince your parents died when you were three.”

hired detective standing in front of the elderly woman I had been wanting to meet for almost thirty years. The only person who could answer all my questions. Could this really be her? Had I finally found my grandmother, my only living relative? Would she want to meet me? Did  say? 

 I didn’t notice she had approached until I felt a gentle touch on my arm and then a soft hand on mine.

“Kristin? Is it really you? Oh, my dear child, I have hoped and prayed for this day, but thought I wouldn’t live to see it. You look so much like your dear grandfather.”

“Are you really my grandmother?” I asked tentatively.

“Yes, sweet girl, I am. I have so much to tell you and I am sure you have many questions. I wanted to meet you here, because this is where so much happened. It was just by the entry that I first met your grandfather and our story began...I had no idea what the future held, but I felt such joy in that moment.” She paused and I suggested we find a place to sit and have a drink before she continued.

After we settled in a little coffee shop, she continued the story I was longing to hear.

“It was a time of war and people just grabbed hold of whatever joy they could find. We married quickly, found a tiny apartment and had a few weeks of bliss before he was sent to war. I stayed home and did whatever I could to help my neighbours-families who had lost fathers, husbands and sons. My own brother died in the war and my parents By then I had discovered I was pregnant, so I went home. I sent many letters to your grandfather telling him of the baby and the move and my love, but I only received a handful of letters back. I had a beautiful baby girl, your mother, and when the war was over I eagerly waited here where we met, with so many others, for the train that would bring our men home. There were trains full of soldiers and yet, somehow, too few had returned-so many lives sacrificed. I waited but your grandfather didn’t return that day. I never heard from him again. I searched for answers for years.Years later, a man met me at this station, and handed me a small package. In it were the answers I had been longing to know.” She handed me a journal and a stack of letters. “Tell his story, for it belongs to you and, I think, to everyone.”