Sunday

 

When we attend to the moment, the weight of our attention slows time down and we see we have been given gifts. Ann Voskamp

Thursday

This week I was sent two pictures of my paternal great-grandmother.  The first photograph is said to be taken when she was 16.  Phyllis May Brill was born on 11 December 1893.  She died when I was three.  I have spent a lot of time years ago researching family history, but won't delve into all of that now.  

I love the photographs.  Her clothes, the Edwardian jewellery.

Phyllis' story intrigues me.  We are told her parents were William and Rachel Brill.  Her marriage certificate states this.  Her birth certificate however, lists her mother as Maria Brill, father unknown.  Charlotte Maria Brill (known as "Ria") was born in 1870, she was the daughter of William and Rachel Brill.  This makes her 23 when Phyllis was born.  I don't imagine it was ever hidden that Maria was Phyllis' mother.  I look at other photographs that I have seen of Phyllis in local history books.  One taken of her primary school class.  Another photograph of the family, all seated/standing formally in front of the family home.  I see Maria, standing at the opposite side of the group to Phyllis.  What was it like growing up with a younger sister, knowing she was in fact your daughter?  Did they do a lot together when growing up - with 23 years between them?  Did they see each other often in their old age?  

I also think of William and Rachel, staunch Methodists, in the family photograph the bible placed on Rachel's lap.  I like that they supported their daughter and took Phyllis in, raising her as their own.  There is one part of Phyllis' story though which is lost and will never be known.  Who her father was. 
Truth is, in any family tree there will be birth certificates that state "father unknown".  

I once sat with my grandmother and her sister in a rare moment where they talked about family history.  Nan's sister said that their dad did not like my grandfather, as he was Aboriginal.  Of course my dad does not look Indigenous, and neither does his dad.  But does that mean that Phyllis' father wasn't?

 

 (Herbert George Ceely and Phyllis May Brill)

As I pulled out dust covered boxes of papers and newspaper articles, I read through emails I received from a writer, who occasionally teaches night classes at the ANU on writing family history and writing the women's stories.  That is something I would love to do- write about all the women in my family, as I see all of them as strong women.  Living throughout various times, literally building homes in the bush from nothing.  One day maybe I will collate the photographs and the stories that have been passed down.  While the truth can only be alluded to, the stories are far more interesting that two dates on a headstone.