Walter never thought he’d be selling the house he grew up in. The house had been in his family since the early eighteen hundreds. He was the last of the Kikey family, and it broke his heart at the thought of someone else living there.

Cleaning out the attic, Walter found a small book. It resembled a girl’s diary. He wavered a few minutes before sitting and opening it.

The first entry was from May of nineteen-twenty-two. He figured it was his grandmother’s. She was about sixteen at the time. She died before he really knew her. Reading it gave him a chance to know a little of who she was.

Ten pages in he read a sentence that brought a tear to his eye: I wish mother hadn’t made me give up the baby.

I twinge of hope flickered that he had family somewhere. Thinking about it put a smile on his face. Maybe he wouldn’t have to sell the house after all.

Walter hired a PI and showed her the diary. It didn’t take long before she tracked down the baby’s adoption to a family in California. Walter took a short flight there the next day.

His grandmother’s baby, Mabel, had two sons and a daughter. Each of them had four kids, six of them boys.

Walter caught up with his extended family, and was reassured the house would remain in the family for years to come

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