Picking Up the Pace
I’ve learned bits about my mother’s adoption in 1936, her biological parents, her adoptive parents, Eleanor Roosevelt, one of her ambassadors accepted, though unfair and immoral, legal practices, and lost and stolen children. We have a place in this chaos.
I have to start over. The original storyline no longer makes any sense. A new concept, though, is taking root. I think I can follow this easily.