I was adopted as a baby in 1971 and lived with my adopted parents until March 1987 when they were both drowned in the Zeebrugge Ferry disaster. I was put in short term foster care and then long term foster care until I timed out on my 18th birthday.
I was allowed to visit my former home, on the day after the funeral, to collect my belongings but never stayed there again. When my aunt and uncle came back from Denver in 1989 they lived there for a while.
Now I can sort of understand why I wasn't in the will, being adopted rather than a birth child. But as somebody told me over Christmas, and why I am writing, surely I was left something. Did I really matter so little.