Lulu's Story...

Lulu and I have been friends for many years. As soon as we met, we became instant friends, and although throughout the years our lives have taken different twists and turns, we have always remained close. We were joking the other day about how many of her husbands I have known. Three. Or four. Lulu is one of those people I like -- a true character. She is intelligent, a bit acerbic, witty, well-educated and funny. She is an interior designer, and had designed the offices of one of the companies situated in the World Trade Centers. On the day the towers came down, Lulu phoned me from Toronto, and all she could say was "Oh, sh*t, oh, sh*t". Everyone she knew in that office had perished, as well as many of the people she had known in the Windows on the World Restaurant at the top of the North Tower.

Lulu had been adopted as a child, and she had always been curious about her real identity. Her adoptive family was Scottish-Canadian, and she had been raised in the Scottish tradition, but she was never sure if those were her true roots. She had one brother, also adopted, and she said she always felt a bit like a lost soul. There was a part of her that seemed to be searching for something, a persona that she carefully guarded. She had a wandering spirit, and was able to pick up and leave wherever she was, and just as quickly put down roots in another location. She had become adept at making a home for herself anywhere.

The other day Lulu told me she had recently found her birth records and had found her biological mother and father. She was delighted to know that she was indeed of Scottish heritage, and she told me her real name. I laughed because it suits her even more than the name she has now, and as she said it, it seemed to slip around her shoulders like a comfortable, perfectly fitted jacket -- tartan of course. The look on her face was like watching a lost piece of a jigsaw puzzle snapping into place, completing the picture. Her birth family even has a traditional Scottish tartan, and the strange thing is, for as long as I have known Lulu, she has owned a kilt in that very tartan. Lulu was also delighted to learn that she has eight brothers and sisters. I asked her if she had found any of them, and she said, "It would be rather difficult to find eight brothers and sisters", and I said "But you would only have to find one -- the rest would follow." She said she couldn't imagine finding other people in this world who might perhaps look like her, or have some similarity to her. She has never known what that feels like.

I can hardly wait to hear the rest of Lulu's story. I have a feeling there's a lot more yet to be discovered.