A chance meeting at the veggie market.

Peter and Laurie Beyer - around the early 90's.

Last week I ran into my Mum when I went to my local fruit and veggie market. I actually noticed her daughter-in-law and old next door neighbour first, who were all standing chatting and waiting for someone. In that split second that I realized she was there I admit that I wasn't sure whether to smile, nod and keep going - or stop and say hello. Have you ever been amazed at how many thoughts can actually run through your head in what seems like minutes but in fact must be micro-seconds? I'm processing my dilemma and coming to a conclusion without any kind of physical hesitation. Quite amazing when you think of it! My hesitation wasn't really about saying hello to my 'Mum' (strange word in my life time), but her daughter-in-law who over the years has chosen to ignore me if I've ever walked past her (which happens occasionally in a small town). I'm not fussed by it, people make decisions based on someone else's actions and I've known her long enough to know that she has very deep and disturbing demons of her own. She is the wife of the the Beyer's eldest son Chris who disliked me from the day I arrived - with a very mutual feeling towards him. His dislike of me has just been carried over to her. Her dislike of me is unfounded outside of that. I've always been kind towards her - admittedly when the rest of the family weren't. 

But in that moment I chose to be the bigger person, holding my head high (even thought my heart was pounding all over the place) and catch up on the 'family' news. After my greeting I was aware that I was probably talking too fast, trying to fill in the awkwardness that was in the air and the place we'd found ourselves. I mean - what does one really say? She looked almost the same and I must say at 84, the years have been kind to her. She's always been very thin and frail, so the mere fact that she looked so good at 84 was surprising! I remember her being of ill health right back when she was 50!

Now you might think it's very weird to be talking about 'bumping' into your 'mother.' And you are right. It's weird, and it's sad and it's somewhat crazy. But one thing I've learnt in life is that you can't control other people but you can be controlled by them. I choose not to be controlled by human beings and have had to make some very difficult and heartbreaking choices in that. But I've watched adults be controlled by other adults and make choices which has ultimately affected me. So here I am, standing in a fruit and veggie market talking to a woman who took me in at the age of 7, and she's become a stranger. In that moment I felt an overwhelming sadness come over me but I also found a peace and a strength, knowing that I'm okay and she's okay and life has gone on for both of us.

How did this ever come to be?

When we left the Nicholls, a home of love, affection and fun, we went to another family here in Morwell - the Beyer's. I don't know why we left the Nicholls and I've decided I never will understand it. And that's okay because it can't change anything. I do know that the move was traumatic and something in me broke, sending me into years of darkness, depression and anger. You could not find two families of such extreme contrast. Where the Nicholls were warm and loving towards us, the Beyer's appeared cold and distant. Where the Nicholls were affectionate, the Beyer's were without touch. Where life with the Nicholls was fun, life with the Beyer's was dark and lonely. Oh so lonely. I've never again experienced such loneliness as I did then. 

Me aged 7 years

I want to be careful here. Dishonouring my foster parents is not my intention and I want to make that very clear. But at the same time I can't 'pretend' that this was not how I perceived life at that age. I can't even go into it all in one blog because it was 9 years of difficulty - for us (my twin and I) and for them. I don't think we were what they were expecting and I think that the challenges they faced with us were overwhelming for them. Here we were, two 7 year olds who had already experienced more than most 7 year olds should. We were angry, hurt and confused. And somehow that's how it stayed. They were also old school - the father went to work and had very little to do with the kids except for discipline - and the mother stayed home and kept house. So that's how it was.

Fifteen years ago I finally asked my Mum the question. I knew that prior to taking us on as foster kids (they had intended to adopt us - but they soon changed their minds!), they had lost their own 6 month old daughter. She was their 5th child after having 3 boys and 1 girl. As both my foster parents were older, having another child of their own was out of the question (their last child was a lovely surprise to begin with) and the pain of losing their child too much anyway. I soon saw that - poor Mum was never able to come to terms with it. As a mother myself I can understand that.

But why foster two kids? It never made sense to me.

Her reply wasn't quite what I was expecting. She said that after losing her daughter Kirrely, they wanted to adopt another girl. So they went through the whole 2 year process of wanting to adopt (it was much easier 40 years ago!) and at the last round they were rejected. This was heart breaking for them so when out of the blue a worker from Melbourne contacted them and said they needed a placement for twin girls - without hesitation they said yes. It begged the question (for which I did ask), did you really stop to think about what you were doing?

No. We didn't.

But there was more to this story which in some ways became a little more bizarre, but in other ways I guess I try to understand. Mum told me that when she was 20, well before she was married (she married at 26 which was quite old in those days!), she had a dream that she had twins. In her mind she believed that God was telling her that she was going to have twins. Of course she thought they would be her own children and something she said she never forgot. So when she received that phone call to ask if they would take twins, she just knew she 'had' to. I don't know about you, but I kind of think it's a strange reason to take on two 7 year olds and try and raise them. She felt she had no choice, which is sad. I can't really question whether what she heard was from God or not - who am I to judge? God has a unique relationship with all of us - but it still seemed strange. But I tell you this, if that's what she believed then I take my hat off to her in her faithfulness in doing what she felt God told her to do. Many times she tried to give me up but didn't - though later I found out that it was my Dad who fought for me all the way! God bless him, I didn't find this out until after he'd died.

But life goes on, and I grew up, left home at 16 and went on my merry (and sometimes not so merry) way. Life eventually took me full circle after I married, had my first son and moved back to Morwell. Dad died a few months before we moved back (I'll blog on that next time) and for the first few years we stayed in touch with the family but eventually when Mum's daughter convinced her to sell her home (something she really didn't need to do - she had plenty of us to take care of her) and build a unit out the back of her house in Hazelwood North - everything ended.

I can't blame her daughter though I am sad at her actions. She never did cope with Louise and I. Why would she? She was 13 years old and the only daughter to her parents. She could never understand why her parents took on 2 more girls - was she not enough? In some way she was a victim in all of this too - and I've tried over the years to fully understand that. By understanding her pain I have been able to understand why she needed to take her mother to her house - and finally cut us off. From the day Mum moved out of her home - I have not seen her. I wasn't allowed to go and visit her. Finally her daughter had what she so desired all her life - her mother. To herself. Not having to share her with anyone - let alone someone's else's kids that were difficult anyway.

Now you may understand why my first foster sister's were so special - they embraced the sharing of their 'beloved' mother Aunty Audrey with us. I treasure that.

My kids don't know who my foster mother is and I'm guessing they never will. She's 84 now and the day will come when it's her turn to leave this earth. I don't know how I will feel. There are days I miss her. As an adult I used to enjoy going and having a cuppa with her and listening to her 'stories.' I used to run a meal up to her (and boy could I do that now!!) and my twin used to do some housework for her. We could have cared for her well. But we weren't given that opportunity. 

Instead, we just bump into each other at the shops, catch up on how things are - smile a sad smile and say goodbye. Always knowing that it could be the last time we do.

Or maybe, just maybe, we'll meet again in the fruit and veggie market just one more time. 

Either way, I'll be looking out.