(First published on the British False Memory Society Forum)
I’ve written here and elsewhere of a digital trail. Perhaps that is too cryptic. What I hope is that those who know my lost daughter, or she herself, will read what I write and think again about what has separated us.
There is indeed a trail, and both ways. Through internet references I have a clear idea of her circumstances and those of her family, especially via Facebook. Likewise, under our real surname, track can be kept of Mrs Llew and me and of the rest of our family.
Maybe that is indeed happening. Is this some weird, ghostly dance we are performing? In the shadows. I want to talk to my lost daughter. I want to meet her husband. We have never met him, or their seven year old daughter, our grandchild.
And we have not seen her mother, our daughter, for, maybe fifteen years now. I want to tell my daughter that I did not abuse her. I want healing in the depths of our family psyche and history. This is ridiculous. So near, yet so utterly far. Utterly. While precious time passes.
What a waste. We are all Christian believers and indeed my unmet son in law is a rather senior layman in the C of E. Yet they reject all contact. In the Name of Christ, will they listen?
I shall post this on my open lleweton blog if Mrs Llew agrees.