Every family has a story...

My grandmother

My mum has been getting into genealogy lately, which is the study of families and the tracing of their lineages and history.

Ancestory.com.au is her new best friend.

I have to admit, it is fascinating. Learning about generations gone by that make up a small part of who I am.

It also gets me thinking about my immediate family that have been part of my life; parents, sibling, grandparents.

Every family has a story to tell. Mine is no different.

My maternal grandmother alone is a story in herself.

She went missing when I was ten years old. This wasn't her first time going AWOL, she had done it twice when my mum was growing up but eventually called to give her whereabouts.

This time there has been no phone call. For the past 26 years I have wondered what happened to her. I used to love my grandmother, she doted on my brother and I.

As the years have passed and we have gotten older, the truth about how my grandmother treated my mum has tainted my love for her. I'll probably never know the full story, Mum doesn't like to talk about it.

You see I love my mum and it breaks my heart that she didn't have the happiest of childhoods. Especially because she made sure that my brother and I did. I probably have my grandmother to thank for that, I think that my mum was determined to be a better parent than hers.

I am sure that we will never know what happened to my grandmother all those years ago.

My grandmother had three children, all girls. My Aunty K, Mum and D.

D was the first born and given up for adoption. My grandmother was not married at the time so adoption was apparently the only answer.

My mum never knew about her eldest sister until about 11 years ago when D made contact while trying to find her real mum and dad. Sadly D never got to meet her mum, she was already missing. She is still investigating the identity of her real father.

Family investigations since D's arrival into our family haven't revealed much about this time in my grandmothers life.

It seems one day my grandmother moved to Sydney on the pretence of living with an aunty. Then just as suddenly she moved back to the country. During this time she had D. No-one, who is still alive in the family knew anything about it.

I often wonder what life was like for my grandmother. Did giving D up for adoption affect the rest of her life - hence the AWOLs and her non-maternal ways towards my mum?

Unfortunately I will never know now.

Does your family have a story?