When death comes knocking.....

Monday morning started out as a pretty normal morning for me at work. I was having my usual cup of coffee in the staff room, before the bell rang and it was time for me to head to my classroom. But somehow this morning was going to be one of the hardest mornings I've ever had to face at school. Okay maybe the second - because last year at work I was given similar news although the delivery was much different.

While I was making my coffee, a friend and colleague came to me and offered her condolences at the death of my foster mother Laurie Beyer. Her family had been friends of my foster family for many years and she was saddened to hear of her passing.

The only problem was, I didn't know.

To say I was shocked was one of the greatest understatements of this year. I can't say I was shocked to hear that 'Mum' had passed away because at 87 and frail I knew her time was coming. In fact, only 6 weeks before I had had a dream that I visited her in hospital as she lay dying of old age. I also learnt that day that she had been put in a nursing home for the last week of her life, and had I have known that, my dream may have even come true. But there was much about Mum I was not allowed to know therefore being denied my final goodbye. So no, the shock was not that she had died, but that no-one in the family had bothered to tell me or my twin sister. I mean - we used to laugh that we might only find out when we saw it in the paper. Imagine my horror to discover that that could not have been further from the truth.

My twin and I went to live with the Beyer's at the age of 7. It was not an easy time, nor were the next 9 years that we lived with them. In fact, they were lonely and sad years as we never really fit a family who didn't know how to handle us - or should I say me. I came with baggage of which I can't apologise for. Foster kids aren't to blame for the trauma they experience, though to this day there are members of this family who still do blame me. But I won't offer an apology because I was at the mercy of a life that had not done the right thing by me.

That Monday morning is no doubt going to represent a turning point in my life. I can't at this point write what it means because I believe that will unfold as time goes on. But for that day, I sat with my colleague and cried, and talked, and cried.

What concerned me greatly that morning was my colleague because no-one should ever be put in that situation. No-one should have to 'accidentally' tell someone else that their mother has died. Perhaps the greatest injustice was in fact done to her. But how was she to know that the rest of the family were going to exclude us from this life, or should I say death, event? So I spent as much time in my own grief as I did making sure she was okay. At the time I don't think she understood that in fact she was a part of a greater plan because had she not told me that morning, I would have found out in a more gut wrenching way - if that was at all possible.

You see, the next day the death notice was placed in the paper for all to see. They were lovely messages of a lady well loved by her family, but totally excluding the 2 little girls who had called her 'Mum' for over 30 years. No - we hadn't seen her of late and there was a reason for that. I promised I would not make those reasons known until she was gone because in all of this, I chose to not bring dishonor to an elderly woman's name. And I still won't, although her own children will have a lot to answer for.

So the next day it became clear that my colleague was the one who was supposed to tell me. She was the one I could sit with and talk to for a few hours during that day as I came to terms with not so much the death of my foster mother, but the treatment of her family to myself and my sister. It's hard to excuse that behavior. You would think the death of someone would put aside all jealousy's and ill feelings. But apparently not.

My foster mother's death brings with it closure to a very large chapter of my life. Of that, I shall write again soon. It deserves a blog of its own. I will say my goodbye's, in my own way and at my own time and I will remember the good times, the not so good, the things that were and the things that shouldn't have been. I have much to write for much is on my heart, but for now I will just spend this week remembering. Remembering a woman who lived for 87 years on this earth, was withdrawn yet talented, timid yet sensitive, strong in her faith and close to her own family.

RIP Laurie Lillian Beyer. 
Until we meet again (and we will - you can count on it).

Mum and Dad (Laurie & Peter Beyer). Reunited at last.