After my mother died, I found a photo album from my childhood – in one of the photos, a girl was standing next to me, she looked exactly like me

Each object contained a memory.

My eyes filled with tears. Grief takes you by surprise when it's wrapped in nostalgia.

I turned another page and a photo slipped out. It wasn't meant to be seen.

There were two little girls in the photo.

I saw the date written in my mother's handwriting: 1978.

That meant I was two years old in that photo. The girl standing next to me looked older, maybe four or five years old.

Grief takes you by surprise when it is wrapped in nostalgia.

And she looked like me, and she had the same eyes and the same features.

Below the date were the names: "Anna and Lily".

I was Anna. But I had never heard of this Lily. Not once.

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