I need to preface this post by saying I have Peter's blessing to write it.
Coincidence (noun) "a remarkable concurrence of events or circumstances without apparent causal connection." Sometimes life seems filled with ridiculous and slightly unbelievable coincidences. We have found ourselves swirling around crazy coincidences in the last month which adds to an already complex and interesting tale.
My Mum bought me an ancestry DNA kit for my birthday last year. She's fascinated with the history of names and historical links to countries. Hilariously I came back as a perfect example of where white met bread - my genetics are linked to the regions of England both my parents come from and the highlands of Scotland, thanks to my Dad's Mum. That's it. Nothing surprising in any way, except a random 3% Welsh. Peter and I looked at this together and it raised an interesting question. Where was he from? Life is somewhat more mysterious for Peter. He's adopted. It's not something he talks about openly and there are some friends he's known for years who don't know this. Being adopted is complicated for Peter, but he was interested to see if the DNA results might shed light on his past.
I bought him a kit for his birthday this year, and after a few months the results came back. We looked at the geographic history and found Scotland, Ireland and England, with a tiny smattering of Europe and Sweden. I then pointed to the tab that looked at DNA matches. We were shocked. Apart from a ton of people who share 2 or 3% listed as distant cousins, Peter had someone called Scott who shared 26%. Now the interesting thing is my eldest brother has also done his DNA thanks to Mum. He's my half brother (my Mum was widowed after having my brothers, remarried and had me) and I only share 20% with Craig. So who the hell is Scott?
Peter understandably freaked out. Naively, this was something neither of us had expected. Peter wasn't sure what to do with this information. But a couple of days later he received a message through the ancestry website. It was Scott's wife Michelle, and she had seen the match too. A series of emails followed which blew everything Peter knew into pieces.
I've written over the years about Peter's mental health. Depression and anxiety have plagued him most of his life. But about 4 years ago we figured out these were symptoms of a larger more complex mental illness. This illness stems from the trauma caused by adoption. Not every adopted person experiences this, but there is a lot written about the trauma felt by both mother and child, the wounds left through separation. Looking back, it was simply assumed that women would give children up for adoption until the early 70s. There was no financial support in Australia until 1973 for single mother's, meaning many adoptions prior to this time were done because of financial or societal pressure.
Peter explained recently that he'd heard adoption described as being given a book with the first chapter missing. How did your story start? It's a missing piece of yourself; your identity. Peter and I have spoken a lot over the years about this. He was told when he was around 5 or 6 by his parents that he was adopted, and although he knows that these weren't the words used, thinking back all he can remember is 'you're not ours'. Although he grew up in a stable loving home, the issue of adoption triggers feelings of instability and rejection. Your solid foundation is shaken. You feel 'other' within your own home. Given away by your birth mother.
As a teenager he embraced the outsider, uniqueness of being adopted. But he also struggled in school, and as a young adult was listless and directionless. He was stumbling through life. His Mum thought that seeking out his biological parents might offer stability or answer any questions plaguing Peter. It made him uncomfortable to think about this, but eventually sent off for information from the DHS. In his early 20s he sat in a room with other adopted people seeking details. The staff explained that not everyone would get the answers they hoped for, or that they might be shocked by what they find. Everyone was handed an envelope with paperwork enclosed. He heard some people sob as they read their documents.
Peter was given his original birth certificate. There he's listed with a completely different name. His mother Iris was listed and although unmarried, she'd given Peter his father's surname. His father is not listed on the birth certificate. From this information he applied to Births, Deaths and Marriages for details of Iris. What he received from them was Iris's birth and death certificates. After months of processing this information he eventually wrote a letter to a member of Iris's family. He received a phonecall from a friend, who also lived in regional Victoria where Peter was living. She said, "hey you wrote a letter to my Dad...we're cousins". Peter arranged to meet with Iris's brother Keith. He discovered that he had three other siblings who had all gone into foster care as Iris couldn't financially support them. Only a couple of people knew she was pregnant with Peter, so his arrival aged 20 created shockwaves. Keith explained the awful story of Iris' death, and he handed Peter photocopies of newspaper clippings. She had been murdered in 1973 when she was 33. Another layer of complex trauma. So what information did Keith have about Peter's Dad? "He's probably drunk in a gutter somewhere". There was no positive words to be said about Terry. Although he kept in contact with one brother for a few years they eventually lost touch. Peter has sat with this uncomfortable information for most of his life. The missing first chapter had only more sadness and trauma attached.
"Scott believes his father is someone called Terry, are you related?" Holy crap. Michelle's emails alerted Peter to the fact he had a half brother living in Bendigo. But then things got even weirder - Peter and Scott are born 5 days apart! Scott had met his birth Mum Dorothy about 20 year ago, and when asked about Terry she responded only with "that bastard". They felt they were unable to probe further. So after many emails back and forth, and waiting out a covid lockdown in Victoria, all four of us met yesterday. Over lunch we shared information and laughs. Dorothy worked in a pub in Preston. We suspect that's where she met Terry. Through the ancestry site Peter found Terry's death certificate. He'd died in 1985 of cirrhosis of the liver, aged 44. Trawling information shared on other people's ancestry pages, plus Peter's own detective work, he discovered Terry and his family lived in public housing in Reservoir, just 5 minutes from where we live. He is buried in Fawkner cemetery, just down the road. Last weekend we went looking for Terry. On the opposite side of the cemetery to Iris, we located the plot by the surrounding names on the graves. Terry is buried with his Mum in an unmarked grave. This is what working class financial hardship looks like at the end. Standing quietly for a moment, Peter said "this is the closest I'll ever get to Terry".
Weirdly and coincidently, Terry and Iris and their extended family are woven around the inner northern suburbs of Melbourne. Iris lived in Fitzroy. Just prior to going to hospital, Terry lived in commission flats with his sister in Collingwood. Terry's uncle lived in a house in Brunswick we can see from the carpark of the supermarket we've been going to for 7 years. The person who murdered Iris went to Pentridge Prison in Coburg, where we live. How have we ended up living in the area so closely woven into Peter's missing chapter? The coincidences are staggering.
The shock of finding a half brother through DNA, and the wealth of research material discovered, is allowing Peter to piece the story together. He's only even seen one photo of Iris, back over 20 years ago and noone knows what Terry looks like. Scott said as Dorothy opened the door to meet him, he saw his own face staring back. He looks very much like her, and apart from also being tall, he and Peter don't look anything alike. And although incredibly different people, there were aspects of shared experience. Peter was diagnosed with ADHD last year (yep, thanks to fate and timing so many adults missed diagnosis until adulthood) so I asked how Scott found school. He left at year 10 and when showing his daughter his school reports joked that E stood for Excellent. Scott had also drifted a little through life in his early 20s. Drinking is another common factor. Over lunch the words 'bloody Terry' were said many times as we shared theories about the unreliable lothario. Where on earth was he in January 1969 when Dorothy and Iris were in labour! Unbelievably, Scott's birth name was, you guessed it...Terry!
The research isn't over. Peter has discovered the coroner's report into Iris's death is now publicly available and he wants to know more, as difficult and horrific as this could potentially be. He commented to his psychologist recently that he's tried for 40 years to outrun the uncomfortable past. He's tired and can't do it any more. I've joked many times during our 12 years together that Peter is an enigma wrapped in a riddle. It seems that in many ways he is a chip off the old block. Terry too, is a puzzle we are trying to piece together. Prior to the DNA search, Peter mostly knew about Iris. Terry was an abstract concept, a drunken enigma in a gutter. As confronting as the last few months have been, it's also allowed Terry to become a bit more three dimensional. Peter is finding traces of him, all within a short drive of where we live.
The search continues and the story is far from over. The chapter has some details in it now, but not enough to give a full picture. Of course there may never to answers to some questions, but Peter is facing the past and I'm incredibly proud of how he's dealing with it. For me, it's like our very own version of Who do you think you are? For him it's looking trauma in the eye. Over lunch yesterday we all agreed what a weird and fascinating tale this is. Peter said last night that if I wanted to write about it he was ok with me doing it. He's checked this for details and accuracy. So now you've read this far Peter, just know I love you and we'll keep searching for information together. Terry and Iris's chapter, the prequel to your current life will have as many details as we can find. And whoever you look like and wherever you got your traits from, I think you're amazing and so brave. Thank you for trusting me with your story.
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