Unwritten Letters

I have been looking through some old photos and came across one of my mother as a baby and her grandmother, Mary Evylin Davis, nee Anlezark taken in Freemans Reach in 1936. I’ve sat and looked at it for ages trying to see what isn’t in the photo; trying to hear what is being said and thought. I know a lot about my mother of course, and I have researched a lot about Mary, but I didn’t know her. She died when Mum was a child so Mums’ memories of her are also faded to say the least. I thought I would take the liberty of using my research to pen a letter from Mary to Mum using my new knowledge as a grandparent to fill in the gaps. Would she have said this? I’ll never know.

Dear Joan,

My beautiful little granddaughter, how precious you are. You look up at me with such trust and innocence and know instinctively that I’m someone important in your life, yet you don’t know me, and maybe never will. Look around you Joan. It’s 1936 and the world is peaceful. That dreadful war is long gone and we can live again without fear. You live on a beautiful farmland and have a warm fire to lie beside at night. You have food in your tummy and hand knitted clothes on your little body. You know Joan, I once held your Daddy in my arms the same way I’m holding you. Your Uncle Col and Uncle Stan were my little boys too once upon a time. They were all my babies just like you are now. I watched them grow and then give me the ultimate gift…. you.

There’s a secret Joan that I want to share with you. I want to tell you why you are so special to me but it’s hard for me to say it because it hurts a lot. I don’t want you to see me cry. Grandmas are meant to be always cheery and ready with a smile for all their grandchildren. I will be for you when you are bigger, but right now, while it’s just you and me in the garden alone, let me show you the real me for a moment. I once had little girls like you. I held them on my lap and fed them at my breast. Florence and Iris would have been your aunties, but they went to Heaven a long time ago and left me. They got sick and the doctors couldn’t do anything for them. I think they might have been sent to Heaven to look after Cecil. You don’t know Cecil. Your Daddy and your uncles don’t know about him either. It’s a very big secret Joan but when I was a lot younger, your Granddad and I had a little baby boy and we named him Cecil. We didn’t know how to feed him properly and I fed him the wrong food and that made him very sick and he died before he was even 2 weeks old. I think Florence and Iris are looking after him and that’s why they had to leave me. Please don’t ever tell your Daddy that. I don’t think he or anyone would understand.

But Joan, you’re not going to leave me. Your Daddy and Mummy won’t let anything happen to you. I’ll make sure of that. Love your Daddy Joan and if you see him troubled, ask him what is wrong. My Daddy left me and my brothers and sisters in a dreadful way. He had got into a lot of money trouble and took the only way out he knew to help us all. He shot himself in his bedroom. We were in the other room and heard and saw it. You don’t want to have to live through that Joan. You don’t want to have to know what it is like to see your father dying from his own hand. Talk to your Daddy. Tell him you love him whenever you can. I’m trusting you to do that Joan because I don’t want to lose my little boy too.

I wonder if you will have a granddaughter too Joan. I wonder if one day you will hold her on your knee and look at her and talk to her with secrets that can only be talked about at times like this. What will life hold for you? What can I do to make sure you have everything you ever need? What will you remember of me? Will you remember my secrets?

There is another secret we can share now, but, again, it’s just between us two. Your Great Great Grandad and Grandma would have loved you. They were convicts you know. Oh they were brave, strong, good people but folk today don’t believe that convicts could have been brave and good. Your Mummy thinks that we were German because we have a funny last name. Let her think it Joan. It’s better she thinks that and tells people that than have you labelled as being from ‘convict blood’. How could you ever hold your head up in town if people knew that?

Well, they want to take a photograph now Joan so let’s smile for the camera and keep all our special thoughts just between us two. Just a Grandma and her granddaughter out in the garden together, enjoying the sunshine without a care in the world. Never forget that I love you Joan, and I always will and remember, that if you have secrets you need to hold, I’m there to help you carry them. ... Grandma