Mary Allen was my best friend- like the sister I ever had. We did everything together : piano lessons, movies, swimming, and horseback riding. When I was 13, my family moved away. Mary and I kept in touch through letters and we saw each other on special occasions- like my wedding and Mary's. Soon we were busy with children and moving to new homes, and we wrote less often. One day a card that I sent came back stamped "Address Unknown". Over the years, I thought of Mary often. I wanted to share stories of my children and then grandchildren. And I needed to share my sorrow when my brother and then mother died. There was an empty place in my heart that only a friend like Mary could fill. One day I was reading the newspaper when I noticed a photo of a young woman who looked a lot like Mary and whose last name was Wagman- Mary's married name. "There must be thousands of Wagman. "I thought, but I wrote to her anyway. She called as soon as she got my letter. "Mrs Tobin!"she said excitedly. "Mary Allen Wagman "is my mother.  Minutes later I heard a voice that was recognized instantly, even after 40 years. We laughed and cried and caught up on each others lives. Now the empty place in my heart is filled. And theres one thing that Mary and I know for sure: We don't lose each other again. The writers married name is   _   .
Wagman Allen Tobin we dont know