How could I know my lost aunt could be found on the tv

The day I reconnected with my paternal family, lost for decades, has to be one of the happiest moments of my life. My self esteem grew as knowledge of who I was grew with this meeting.

I've reconciled my life from nine, which is when my soft gentle dad died, to the years that followed when another blind man burst into our lives.

Not for one moment do I beleive we were deprived because our parentsad were both blind. We had what really mattered; love, constancy and pride. I became aware that people looked at us when we were together; just feeling proud that my mum and dad had formed a solid base for us to grow up in. It really didn't feel that our lives were so different that other kids in our Essex council house home.

The fact that mum read us bedtime story's from enormous braille books; so big that these books when opened would cover mum's lap. I would say that my love of reading and writing has a strong connection with mum's dedication and love. As mum had been born blind she was a fluent reader; winning National Reading Competions throughout her life.

Our father didn't lose all of his sight until his late teens; although he was registered partially sighted. When my aunt told me, on one of my earlier meetings with her, that my dad had been a rope-runner I drew in a sharp breath. My dad, out there, working on Coventry railway's, bombs (defused) taken to a safe place to discard.
There was so much I would discover upon meeting my lost aunt; who met me at St Pancras Station.
As I hurried along the platform, removing my ticket from the barrier, a thought arose in my mind. As I sought out my aunt, my lost past, I realised that the platform I was walking along and the clock I was seeking would probably be the same clock that my mum had met my dad after she'd taken the brave decision to alope

There; in front of me was my lost aunt...together we hugged.