Photos of my childhood were the only evidence of my existence. Although not feeling any connection to them, they became a significant part of trying to reclaim my past and my story. In the book I wrote: Mary could not put those photos away; we both yearned for that girl, longing to make a connection. I touched them as if in a fairy tale I would pass through, step back in time, know her, understand her and what she felt.
These are some of the photos referred to in the book – and a few others.