Wow neat story. I'm glad it turned out so well.

In 1960 When I was 14 I answered the door to a man who turned out to be my cousin. He was 4 years old when he was abducted from his mother by his father 16 years earlier. I was born a year after that happened. I had not been told of the story. When He told us his name my mother gasped and had to be helped to a chair. It was the first time I ever saw My dad cry. My Uncle Roger was also in tears. I didn't know what the heck was going on. It seems that when his father died of cancer his step-mom finally told him who his real Mom was and where she lived. He lived in Halifax on the east coast and traveled all the way across the country to find his real mom. Sadly we had to tell him that my Aunt Clara has died two years before He found us. His name is Roger the same as mine. He was named after my Uncle and I was named after Him. He settled about an hour from our house and I used to visit him before He passed away.

In 1960 there were no computers or internet to search for lost loved ones. My mother always said that my Aunt died of a broken heart as much as she died of cancer.