The Broncle, a Curious Tale of Adoption and Reunion. Brian Bailie
THE BRONCLE
A Curious Tale of Adoption and Reunion
Brian Bailie
Copyright 2011 Brian Bailie,
All rights reserved.
Published in eBook format by eBookIt.com
ISBN-13: 978-1-4566-0578-0
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.
Dedicated to my sister, Hilary
without whose curiosity so many would have remained
in ignorant bliss
And in memory of my storyteller, Philip
THE LETTER
2nd August 2010
Dear children of Laura,
I once rode an angry bull; not intentionally – the bugger was trying to kill me. But that enlivening experience helped me realise the importance of grabbing the proverbial horns (or as it was in my case, the ears). And much as my life would be far simpler were I not to write this letter, I think I’d regret not writing it more than I might regret writing it. (I think.)
Anyhow, there’s some information that I believe you deserve to know.
It was a complete coincidence that I found out about your mother’s death earlier this year. I’d been searching in vain for a friend’s name on Google. I entered the name of another friend, but still no results. Frustrated, I just picked a random name, and typed, ‘laura adair isle of man,’ and just hit the return key expecting another failed result.
I was dumbstruck. My search delivered a result on an obituary webpage.
You can call this a coincidence.
Or you can explain this as fate.
I’m not superstitious, but do things like this really just happen by accident?
Why did I type in your mother’s name?
It was a name that I’d chosen at random. But it is a name I’m very familiar with.
Okay, here goes: There are gaps in what I know about your mother, so I’ll just try and give you the facts as far as I know.
(Are you sitting comfortably?)
(I recommend it.)
I understand that your mother was separated from her husband.
I understand that as a result of this, she and her six children moved to live with her in-laws.
I understand that her mother-in-law was disabled.
You should remember the winter of 1962-’63 because it was the worst winter in Ireland for more than 200 years. Entire towns were cut off for weeks by huge snowdrifts and driving blizzards. And it was probably worse near the Mourne Mountains, causing huge snowdrifts and electricity blackouts in little towns like Newcastle, where you were living at that time.
There’s just no easy way of saying this, so I’ll just tell it like it is: That winter your mother conceived a child. With her father-in-law.
The pregnancy was kept a secret. And in September she gave birth to a son.
I don’t know how many people knew about the child. But I know that your mother didn’t want you to know. Understandably.
Two years later your mother gave birth to a daughter, again by her father-in-law.
The original birth certificate for the son gives your mother’s full name as the mother, and an address in Newcastle. The father’s name is left blank.
The original birth certificate for the daughter gives your mother’s full name as the mother, and an address in Belfast. Again, the father’s name is left blank.
About fifteen years ago this daughter managed to get in touch with her mother (your mother) through Social Services in Belfast. It was Social Services who explained your mother’s circumstances to the daughter.
The daughter never made mention of the circumstances of her birth to your mother; that wasn’t important to her. She naturally just wanted to make contact with her natural mother.
Your mother replied with several letters about her family, and even sent a few family photographs. But after a little while she began to back off, she was slow to reply, and her letters became very brief and impersonal.
The daughter sensed that your mother had become uncomfortable, maybe fearing that her adult children might discover her secret. So the daughter asked her if she would prefer to break contact. And your mother readily agreed.
So out of respect for your mother’s secret, the daughter very reluctantly broke off all contact. Forever.
If your mother succeeded in keeping this a secret from you, then you’ll be gob-smacked and very reluctant to believe me. I expect you to be sceptical, but these are the facts as they were explained to me, and confirmed by your mother’s letters to the daughter.
I hope you’re not angry with me for telling you this. And I hope you’re not angry with your mother. Please don’t be angry with your mother. It is what it is. None of us know the underlying circumstances, and none of us should judge her, or her father-in-law.
I guess you’re confused about your relationship with the son and the daughter. They are your half-brother and half-sister. But because their father is your father’s father, they are much closer than half-siblings; genetically they might be more than three-quarter siblings.
And your father (and any siblings he might have had) will also be the son and daughter’s half-siblings: which also makes them your half-uncle and half-aunt.
Quite a mix up.
But what isn’t a mix up is what happened to the baby daughter. She was adopted by the same parents who had adopted the son. They grew up together very happily as natural brother and sister.
There’ll be lot of questions that’ll remain unanswered because of your mother’s death.
And out of respect for your mother, perhaps these questions should remain unasked.
It is what it is.
So, I bet you’re wondering who these relative strangers are?
On 11th September 1963 Laura gave birth to me.
And on 8th August 1965 Laura gave birth to my inquisitive sister.
Laura gave us names that may be significant in your family tree: James, and Emily. Our adopted names are Brian and Hilary.
Right now I’m feeling kind of awkward, like I’ve opened a can of worms and just tossed them over a stranger.
I guess you feel like you’ve just had a can of worms thrown at you.
Running away from a difficult situation isn’t in my nature. Life happens; sometimes you just have to grab the bull by the horns. But I’m sorry if I’ve shocked you.
This must have been a difficult letter to read. It’s been a very difficult letter to write.
I’ve told you just about everything I know. And although Hilary and I should have more questions to ask you than you have questions to ask us, I’ll not be in contact again unless you ask me.
Yours truly,
THE