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About this blog

I have 3 brothers, none of whom I grew up with.
This just talks about how we met.

Friday 17 December 2010

The first visit from my Dad's son, Philip.

The day had come!
I was up with the lark, and so excited!!!
Philip and his wife Dawn, drove down to Bristol from Preston.
As I mentioned earlier, me and mum were living in the same area, about 4 homes apart.
I went there to wait.

Every car that we heard drive by, we leapt to the window...
No, No, No, No, ....

Yes, there he is....driving a Volvo, (That was a shock! I actually think that people who drive Volvo's take a different driving test to the rest of us,,,,, just general observation!). Lol!
No comments on that one please!

Anyway, I knew who it was immediately.

Philip looked so much like my Dad! The resemblance was fantastic!

Coffee, chat......
All the photo's came out, Philip and Dawn looked through them.
Mum and Philip, and Dawn spent time together, and then Me Philip and Dawn spent time.

Philip had loads of paper work, evidence of the paper trail to find us.
He also had copies of letters that my, or should I say our Dad had written to the appropriate authorities requesting custody, information etc.

I gave Philip some nice pics, and Dad's Dog Tags form his army days. I had two sets.
Sadly I was robbed a couple of years afterwards and some a*rsehole stole my set!

Since that time, I do believe that we are as close as any brother and sister can be without having had a shared history.

I know that Dad would have been so proud of him!

Philip is compiling his 'bit' to add.
I would love to look at it.
Although I have seen it and I know about it, I was too excited to take it all in, so to read it in a calm mind will be very enlightening for me.

We email, visit, talk on the phone, it's fab.

Monday 13 December 2010

My Dad's son - First contact

As I said earlier in this blog.
Dad had been trying to find his son for many years, with no joy. It was policy that the natural parents of adopted children were not given any information at all.
The fact that the name was changed and unknown where in the country he was didn't help one dot.
I tried, but I had no joy either.
Anyway, I was visiting my mother.
She showed me a letter that she had received that morning.
It was addressed to my mother.
My brother had found her!
I wish I could remember the words to share with you, but I can't.
I was that excited.....
The most important words said that he was my Dad's son!
Well, I rang the number at the top of the letter that evening, (assuming that he would be at work during the day).
A woman answered. I explained that my mother had given me a letter that she had received in the morning.....
There wasn't much of a dialogue between us, but I detected a bit of excitement in her voice.
All I can remember is that she shouted,
"Your sister is on the phone!"

The woman that answered the phone was Dawn, my brothers wife.
Dawn explained that Philip was in the shower and would be straight down.
Phil and I spoke on the phone, and made arrangements to meet.
Philip and Dawn lived in Preston.
Me and Mum were living in Bristol.

Phil and Dawn came to Bristol for a week end to visit.

I have asked Phil if he will write a bit on how he found us so that I can put it on this blog. He agreed!

The first week end tomorrow!

Sunday 12 December 2010

Their take on the situation.

My understanding is that they were told that their mother was dead.
They never received any gifts or cards form my (their) mother.

We stayed in touch, a couple of visits from them to us, some from us to them, but the contact was, and still is primarily birthday and seasonal cards.

Bert has sadly since died.
I am in contact with some of his children on line. In fact, 2 have left comments on another of my blogs.

We are still in contact with Ken, the occasional phone call, cards and on line. I have been in contact with one of his children on line.
We both know where each other is, and contact is made on a casual basis. That is not to say that we don't care.

Tomorrow, contact with my Dad's son.

Saturday 11 December 2010

First contact

Two days after sending the letter, during the evening, I was watching TV.
The phone rang.
It was my brother, Ken, the youngest of my mother's boys.
We chatted on the phone for 3 hours!!!!!!!

We each condensed our life stories and shared.
We planned a meeting, provisionally, because I had to make sure that Mum and Dad were able to go at the same time.

When I told Mum, she was all giggly, like a school girl, Dad was happy for my Mum. But I could see a grain of sadness in his eyes. I knew he wished that he was meeting his son too.

Anyway, the day of the 'meet' arrived.

Five of us piled in to Dad's car, Mum, Dad, my partner, my son, and me.
Of to Weston Super Mare we went.
It had been agreed that Ken would wait at the roundabout at the junction to W.S.M.
One of the most amazing things was that Mum recognised him immediately - after all these years!!!!
We followed Ken to a pub with a garden. The weather was great.
When we arrived, we all piled into the pub garden....there were loads of us!
Ken, his now wife and their children, Bert, his wife and their children and us five. The atmosphere was electric!!!

About 1 hour after arriving, Robert had an epileptic fit, so I took him to a secluded and shady spot and comforted him through his recovery so I missed a lot of the action.
Never mind though....Mum, Bert and Ken were getting along. They were laughing and catching up.
MISSION ACCOMPLISHED!!!!!!!!!

What was their take on the events?
That is for tomorrow.

Friday 10 December 2010

The Search begins.

I had a starting point for Mum's boys, so, that's where I started.

I phoned Weston-Super-Mare council.
The Sir name was quite unusual, so my guess was, any contact that I found of that name would probably be a relative.
I was given a phone number. (I had to beg, plead,bargain......)
I phoned up.....
A man with a very strong accent answered. He gave his name, and I knew immediately that it was the father of Mum's boys.
I didn't know what to say!!!! (Really unusual for me).
Seconds that felt like hours went by when I blurted,
"Hello, I'm Carol, and I am looking for Bert and Ken because I am their sister......"
Before I could finish he retorted, (can't remember verbatim, but it went something like.......)
" How dare you phone me, I have no other children, I have no daughter, you are a liar........."
And hung up!


OK, I should have prepared a script, I should have used my words differently, should have could have, wish I had....
How wise we all are in retrospect!
That poor man, I wanted to ring back and explain, but I think that I had done enough rocking of his proverbial boat.

Not be 'scuppered', I rang the W-S-M council back.
I was eventually given an address that was not the one of the man I had just scared to death!!
I wrote a letter and posted it.
Now I waited.........

Wednesday 8 December 2010

1981

Been married.
Had a lovely son, Robert. He was 3 years old, and had severe learning disabilities, my little Angel!
Been divorced.
Was was in a steady relationship.

One spring day, I was with Mum, and we started to chat. We were talking about all the things that she did as a child that got her into trouble, all the things that I had done that got me into trouble..(of course, there weren't many of them, lol!).
Mum talked about Ken and Bert.
I listened.
Mum was very sad. I asked her if she wanted me to try to find them. I had their names, I knew that they were from Weston-Super-Mare, their ages.........
Mum said that she would love it.
I said that I would check it out with Dad first, because I would hate to upset him.
Mum smiled and agreed...you know, one of those 'knowing' smiles that mean more than your 'regular' smile.
Hmmmmmm.....

I decided to waste no time, and arranged to meet Dad for lunch.
We went to a little Cafe close to his place of work.

I told Dad what I intended to do, and asked him if he was O.K. with it.
Dad gave me one of those 'knowing' smiles.
(Me thinks there's more to this than meets the eye, Ooooo Arrrr).

Dad said that he was fine with this, he then went on to tell me that he too, had a son.
You could have knocked me down with a feather!

Dad told me the story.
When Dad was about 19, he had a relationship with this young woman.
She became pregnant. He asked her to marry him.
The young woman was living with her Aunt
The Aunt would not let the young woman marry my Dad as he came from the 'rough' part of the city.
Not sure of the facts now, but I think that they moved so that my Father couldn't find them.
Anyway, the child was born, a boy, and was put up for adoption.
In those days, when a child was adopted, names were changed, the child usually moved far away from the original place of birth and conception, there was no way of finding them.
Dad became all melancholy, and he had a tear in his eye. He seemed very vulnerable.
O.K. I said. I will find him too.

Dad explained that he had been trying for many years, with no success. Although he knew where to go for information, they would not give him any.

Mum knew of Dad's child and Dad knew of Mum's children.

When they first married, they wanted to bring my mother's children and my father's son to live with them as a family. I was born and their dream was to have all 4 of us together.
I remained an 'only' child.
Dad had written letters galore from the time of his sons birth to get  custody or at least some information.
Mum had been sending letters, cards and gifts since she had to leave her sons.

Tomorrow, the search begins.

Tuesday 7 December 2010

Did I say 1981?

Well, the next thing was 1976.
I was working as a trainee psychiatric nurse in Leicester.
It was the last course that covered mental health and learning disabilities.
I would shuttle between the Towers Hospital and Glenfrith Hospital.
Anyway, mum's sister, Aunty Ilse, came over from Germany and they both went to Weston-super-Mare for a week. Dad and I stayed at home. We both had to work.
On a very hot Saturday in the summer, Dad came to pick me up from work, as we were going to Weston to pick mum and Aunty Ilse up.
They were staying in a hotel by the pier. Dad and I had booked in for the night.
Anyway, the 4 of us were in the dining area/bar having dinner.
Dinner finished,we had a couple of drinks, well I did anyway.
Music playing, everyone happy, I was getting tipsy on the atmosphere, with a little help from the gin and bitter lemon!
Dad grabbed a table cloth and made like a Toreador, and I made like a bull!
Funny, that, because it was a Greek hotel!
Anyway, the manager went a got a red table cloth to make it more realistic....memory fades.....
The next morning, when we all came down to breakfast, all the guest applauded as me and my dad descended the stairs that led straight into the breakfast/bar area.
I can't remember too well what we did, but it must have been good!!

There you go, going off on a tangent again!
Funny what you remember, (or don't).
Back to business.

It transpired, that Mum and Aunty Ilse went to Weston to see if they could find my mother's 2 sons.
Bert and Ken.
Sadly, they didn't, but Mum told me the whole story.

When Mum was 18, she met and married a young English man, I think that he was a soldier.
It was about 1947, so not too long after the war. He was from Weston-Super-Mare.
They went to live in England. They lived with his parents.
They had 2 sons. Bert and Ken.
I don't know the details, (and if I did, I wouldn't share them).
Let it suffice to say that it didn't work out.
They separated.
Mum had to return to Germany.
She couldn't take the boys, as she needed the fathers permission, she couldn't stay and get work because she was German  (Loads of stuff made things difficult).
Anyway.
Back in Germany, Mum would send letters, cards and gifts, but never had any reply. This went on for many years.