I FOUND MY FAMLIY!!

My Mum never met her father and my family have been searching for him for years and finally, the day has come that I finally found him! Unfortunately my Mum Margaret Gemai Nawie has passed and will never get to see what her Dad looked like but we do. Me, you and the next generations to come can see the man our Nana fell in love with when she was 19yo on Thursday Island, Queensland married in Townsville and birthed their only child in Mareeba, Queensland before raising her as a single mum in Moe, Victoria.

This was my Mum's Dad - Lobrey Nawie nee Sailor

This is a photo of him (in the middle) 

This was his mother - Gemai Sailor

This was his father - James Nawie

(the man behind him was James' elest brother Naton Nawie)

I literally cried seeing these. My Mum grew up with her "white" side of the family in a "white" community along side her blonde hair, blue eyed sister. She was subjected to racism and rejection from her own family and from the racist community including the Cathloc School she attended. 

Being proud of who she was came later on in her life and was hard for her. She never knew her family and only knew very little about her rich culture. When she was younger my Nana described my Mum trying to scrub off her black skin. She was so different and didn't understand why she was treated so badly. 

I cant help but imagine what Mums life could've been like had she known and understood who she was an found her identity in this family who have welcomed us. She may not have struggled with finding acceptance and love, alcoholism, prescription medications to numb the pain. She may not have been homeless or a drug addict prostituting for her next fix which eventually killed her. Imagine if she learned that she was loved, that her culture was beautiful and that she was a part of the largest family left on Thursday Island!

Fun Facts:

While doing a Google search I gathered this information about my Great Grandfather, James' Parents which I found in this notebook..

Dugong - Banks Island Open married Ñarusa [from Moa (Banks Island)]; their children were James Nawie and Esther

 Narusa, bom c.1892 at Adam, a village on Moa, died 1943, daughter of Aikuru and Idabu, married Open or Aken Nawie (c. 1882-1943) in 1912. Aken Nawie was bom on Mabuiag, the son of Nawi from Tanna and his wife, Amakudulu or Kudulu. The family lived at Adam before moving to St Paul’s Mission, Moa. James was bom c.1914 and Esther in 1916.

In the FL version, Open and Ñarusa have only two children, Zemes Nawi (James Nawie) and Eta (really Esther)

You can find the Family Tree here..

*Adding photos to the family tree now

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Bingo Night

Tonight I spontaneously decided to go to Bingo.


After the kids were babysat last night by a babysitter they never want again, they assured me that they didn't need a babysitter and promised that next time I go out, that they would start listening to Jeanette.

So testing that theory, I decided I would go to Bingo tonight as I have been really wanting to go, but never have because we always have plans on a Wednesday night.

Bingo itself is not what it used to be for me. I remember going with my Nana (and Aunty) as a child and it being so much fun. Nan would let me play the books that had already been played and she used to sneak biscuits home so we could have a cup of tea and eat them together before bed. If she won she would treat us to some lollies at the shop across the road from her unit. When Nana got down to one number she would nudge me to check if the number had been called yet. She would get so excited and would curse when someone else yelled Bingo and tell me how many numbers she had been sitting on, waiting for her number to be called.

Tonight I went on my own. But I wasnt lonely. Although I was sitting on my own at a table to myself I looked around to see that the place was packed with more older people than young ones like me. But it made me smile. Because I could see them enjoying themselves. I could hear the odd whisper of someone saying they needed one number, the sounds of dabbers and pens coloring in the bingo ticket, I could hear people shuffling in their seats and when someone yelled Bingo, I could hear the chit chatter about the numbers they needed or how many they needed. Although I didnt get a bungo, I enjoyed the different ways people yelled bingo. And while concentrating on my book, marking numbers and getting butterflies when I needed that one number, I remembered Nan, and how I wished I could nudge her.

She is so deeply missed by me.

Bingo was her thing and I'm glad to have such beautiful memories of that with her.

When I returned home, Justine and Nevaeh were asleep, Jie and Janai were on the Xbox's and Jeanette was watching a movie. The house was quiet and kept clean and apparently everyone was wonderful. They definitely proved themselves tonight and I'm impressed.

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Learning about the History of Australia + Myself!

This blog post is from my Study Blog and was written and published on the 24th of February..

Last night I watched a chilling documentary about the first Australians and was completely and utterly heartbroken. The documentary was called Lousy Little Sixpence and went into detail about colonization and the impact it had on Indigenous people.

As an indigenous person myself I was mortified. I remember touching on the subject at School but never in this much detail and while growing up with the white side of my family and then getting shuffled around foster homes throughout my adolescents I had no real idea about my culture or what they went through all those years ago.

My Grandfather was a full blood Torres Strait Islander and my Nana was Pom. My Nan moved onto Thursday Island as a way to get away from a sexually abusive father and a family who turned a blind eye to the abuse. My Grandfather was already married and Nana was his second wife. This was not unusual on the island. My Grandfather had a daughter to his first wife before Nana fell pregnant with my Mother. Mum was born a half-caste. Making me quadroon and my children octoroon. Nana spoke of a lot of traditions on the island before she passed away, how her husband was a fishermen, how the house was ran, what it was like having to share your husband with other women (he had 4 wives) and what life was like on the island.

Just before Mum was due my grandmother left the island after hearing of the traditions set by the elders of the community. According to TSI tradition the first born child in every family must be given to an elder. Nan didn't speak much of why but she also mentioned that it was also tradition to bury a newborn baby up to their neck in the sand and leave them overnight. Apparently if they died during the night they were not strong enough for the tribe but if they survived, they were accepted and welcomed into the family with a special welcome ceremony. By leaving, our culture and heritage were also left behind and Mum was raised being the only indigenous one in my Nanas family.

My Grandmother went on to have another child who was blonde, blue eyed and fair skinned. Nan married three times but Mum never met her real father or any of her family from the island.

Although our skin is dark and our indigenous features stand out we have no idea about who we are, what tribe we're from, what language we spoke or even what my Grandfather looked like.

I researched a little right after my Nana passed away and found an announcement of my grandparents marriage. It was listed under the heading "Mixed Marriages" and was almost invisible at the bottom left hand corner of the newspaper. I contacted a man whom remembers a telegram being sent from the mainland to the island but then returned. That telegram contained information about my grandfathers death at age 42 and was never received by his family. I also found where he is buried through research of plot names was in the same place he passed away. 

Since then I started a family tree and found and connected with the relatives and family he grew up with but caught a snag upon finding out that he was actually adopted. His biological parents are Unknown. Sailor was his adopted name and Nawie was in fact the name on his birth certificate. 

I guess we'll never really know much about him. All I know of him is that he loved my Nana and all of his wives deeply. He worked hard to provide for them and his child (Mum's half sister). He loved to sing and was a hard worker. He loved the ocean, his people and his family. After Nan left his he became an abusive alcoholic. When Nana went for full custody of my mother (Mum was 4yo) he threatened to kill her during the hearing. He was drunk. The court ruled my Nana full custody and made a life intervention order against my grandfather to protect my Nana. He never fought to see Mum again.

I never thought I'd be writing about all of this but it's amazing how just a small component of my study into indigenous culture and learning about the history of Australia can impact my life and make me want to appreciate who I am more. 

I have also learned to appreciate who my mother is and the life she's had to live. Although it doesn't completely excuse her for the choices she has made throughout her life, this part of her past, her identity and need to fit in somewhere while growing up with a racist family has contributed into her being who she is today. I love my Mum and always have and in doing this part of my family tree and learning about my family history I now understand the effects of displacement, racism and her loss of identity. I only wish someone had reached out to her in her times of need.. 

My Mum on the right..

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A Dedication

I'm dedicating this brand new year to my Nana Jeanette Standing (Hester) and I am not taking it lightly. She would have wanted to see us live well, achieve well and to be happy and healthy. Our Nana-Nette would want us to raise our children (her great grandchildren) with love and selflessness and to love each other immensely. This year I feel sorry for my sister and brother. Because as much as they would love to have me take a back seat in their lives I'm going to be involved like a full force gail. Each of them have never had the luxury of parents to keep them accountable, praise them when they're doing well or to help them when we're mucking up or going off the rails. But that changes now!! That may have been the way of life for the past 10 plus years but not this year! I'm not only making this year about me and my goals.. I'm going to do my complete and utter best to ensure that when 2016 hits us, we're all thriving towards being better individuals and encouraging one another to succeed! This is what Nana would have wanted!

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Angry. Crying. Hurt

Angry.

Crying.

Hurt.

On mothers day this year I sent my uncle a message.

This was the message:

Hi Uncle D. I hope things are well with you and the family. I see you now have a grandson and granddaughter. Congrats on getting back in touch with W and N. I was just wondering if you could send me just a few photos of my childhood from the albums you have of our family. I have maybe 4 photos of me under the age of 14yo and none of Mum and I together apart from the one taken at Nana's funeral. I have just so much of my messed up life to piece back together. If your willing my address is still ((my address here)). You don't need to reply. Miss.

He blocks me.

I sent this message because the only good memories I have of my Mother are now photos which Mum left in a shed at my Aunty's around 15 years ago. Family Photo albums of my childhood including my first baby book full of my birth details etc. Also in the albums are photo's of my siblings and I with our Nana who passed away just four months after my Daughters birth in 2009. These precious moments have no value to them. None of us kids, my Mum or my Dad have had anything to do with them in almost 5 years after Nana passed. And quite honestly if you knew what my Nana endured while she lived in a granny flat behind their home you'd know why we have all wiped them. No one should live worst then their pet dogs!!

I'm sorry. I am just so angry. My Uncle has lived his whole life without his children, paying for detectives etc to search for them for over 12 years and I thought out of everyone he would understand what it's like to feel without family. I found them on Facebook not long after Nana passed away and although we weren't talking at the time I still made every effort to ensure they all reunited. I did that. And I got no thanks..

I feel like I have a right to the photos of myself as a child. Growing up in foster homes you lose yourself very quickly, and with all that I have been through all I asked for was a few photos. They have maybe 6 albums. A few photo's is not asking much for someone who has nothing of her childhood.

What selfish, careless, heartless people. Just because they have an amazing stable family, my cousins have always had their Mummy and Daddy and even our Nana be there for them. Well I would love to see them endure half the shit this life has dealt me. I have had to raise myself and my brother with an alcoholic father and a drug addict, prostituting Mum. I have had to live on the streets when the system failed me at 16 after 25 foster homes. I have had to pull myself out of drug abuse and domestic violence to give my children everything thay have today yet I live every day feeling completely alone. No grandparents for my kids, no aunty's or uncle's or cousins around for them. Seriously what is a few photos of me and my mother in happier times to them?

My heart aches..

Who the hell does this?

It's like I don't exsist..

Fair enough they don't like me, the feeling mutual.

I just want to have photos to share with my kids, to put int our photo albums to feel like I actually fit somewhere in this world. I want to be able to say "This was Mummy when.." or "This is your Grandmother when Mummy was (however old)." Instead the only opion I have is to show my kids my Mum in the photos I have, completely scared up and either drunk or stoned. I know what my Mum is. Everyone does but I dont want to be putting it into my childrens faces.

A few photo's I asked..

How does nothing sound Melissa?!!

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Memories of Nana..

After going through all the old photos, it was this one I choose to share with you all {And my children}.

This photo was taken by me back in 2009 on a disposable camera which was later scanned onto my laptop. I remember looking through the lens and capturing the perfect moment just as Jie was smiling at his Great Grandmother.

Nana loved spending this quality time with her first born grandson. And was actually quite surprised when she found out that I was having a boy.

This was because. In our family. Going back generations. The woman always birthed their daughters first.

My Great Grandmother birthed a girl, another girl, a boy and then twins (My nana was one of the twins) and went on to have more.. 

Then our Nana had two girls.

Our mother had 2 girls and a boy in that order.

Our Aunty had 2 girls and a boy in that order.

And my sister had 2 girls and a boy in that order and has since had another daughter.

I was the first to break the genetic cycle having a son first and then my daughter.

And I am the only one in my family with a pigeon pair.

Nana always said that she wanted to be around to see her Great Grandchildren and she was blessed with meeting 4/5 to date. She loved all of her grandchildren and great grandchildren and left us all with precious memories before her passing in 2009. 

I'm so happy knowing she met, loved, held and spent time with my two children. 

If only for a little while.

She was beautiful.

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A surprise for Jie

Jie is back at school today after his school holidays.

I thought I would surprise him with a brand new bedroom..

 Jie's magnet memo board is back up and what is a boys room without a shrine of his favorite team?

 But I know this will be his favorite change of all. 

A brand new frame for his favorite photo.

I can't wait to show him!

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Happy Birthday Nana!

The kids and I had a cuppa tea with breakfast in honor of our Nana's (would be) 65th Birthday today!

Together we took some time to remember all the things Nana loved so much, the cuppas, the wireless and her love for Merlin. 

Today is still her day.. 

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I remember {tuesday}

Nana's first hold..

her first hug..

her first loves to her first great-grandson..

I remember..

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Imagine..

Three years ago to this very day a beautiful soul left this earth. Today I am not sad, I'm very much glad that our beloved Nana was set free from her horrible reality and believe that she is now in heaven with her creator. You see, our Nana was treated disrespectfully while on this earth by the ones she loved so dearly. 


Imagine having your money striped from you before you even had a chance to spend it. Imagine being told who you can or can't talk to, visit, have over to your own house and being lied to about people you treasure only in your heart. Imagine sitting in a granny flat out the back of your daughters house eating beetroot sandwiches to the smell of KFC or a Sunday Roast you so loved, cooked by a son-in-law who would rather lock the back door than have you in his home majority of the time..


Imagine having your daughter live metres from you but never invite you in for a coffee or come out and sit with you even for a little while. Imagine the feeling of having to ask for a cigarette and being told to get the smoke butts out of the ash tray's out the back and from car ash trays. Or having a weak bladder and having only one packet of pads that would last you 5 days max and having to go the rest of the fortnight wearing towels.


Imagine your daughter having a say in what food you buy, medication you take, who you can and can't call on your own phone and having to pay petrol to get to your doctor appointment's. Asking to go to bingo then having to get your grand-daughter to pay for a taxi because your daughter left without you because she is a selfish pig. Then walking into the room and have your daughter look at you and roll her eyes as if she didn't want you there.


Imagine having grandchildren that disrespect you and tell you what your doing wrong and how you should be living your life. Imagine having $50 for food then those same grandchildren take the last of your bread or salada's that was supposed to do you for the week. Then imagine you going into your daughters house and asking for a potato or some bread and being told to support yourself proparly, not by your daughter or even her husband but the very kids that ate your lasts.


Imagine your grand daughter doing your make up and hair for a night out, feeling good about yourself only to be told to go and remove it because you look like shit by your controlling daughter followed by "Your not coming with me looking like that!"


Imagine not being able to breathe, having to sit on your ventilator for hours and still struggling. Imagine your daughter and her eldest daughter walking in your granny flat at around 8pm telling you to turn it off and that your fine and to stop being silly. Imagine yourself out of breathe begging to go back on it because you couldn't breate. Imagine not being able to sleep for four nights then going into your daughters house and being able to breath and fall asleep on the couch in front of the air conditioner. Imagine your grandson waking you up saying "Nana, go into your granny flat if you want to sleep, I'm trying to watch wrestling and can't hear it over your snoring" so you take the slow walk back to your granny-flat and feel as though your suffocating again.

And imagine two spoilt dogs, being served the same dinner as the family every night and you (hungry) being told "Oh, I only made enough for us."

Imagine your last week in hospital wanting to make things right with your neice, see her, speek to her but your daughter again controlling who can and can't go visit you..

Imagine you, in your last hours asking not to be alone, for your family not to leave you then dying your worst fear - alone..

Imagine having "Never Alone" written on your grave stone and michael jacksons song "You are not alone" played at your funeral when you lived your whole life in your daughters backyard feeling - ALONE!

I will never forgive my Aunty or Uncle for the way my Nana was treated while on this earth. She was beautiful, humble, giving, honest, loyal and never said anything bad about anyone (that she truely meant). She loved everyone, she would give her last if it meant she went without and would always make you feel like the most important person in the world while in her house. I miss her every day, but I know I'll see her again! She is in the hands of our LORD and I believe faithfully that she is now not Alone..

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Short Bread Biscuits

This is an extra special recipe' because my Nana taught me how to make these only two weeks before she passed in '09

Easy, simple and when made from the heart.. delicious!

Ingredients
150g Plain Flour
50g Caster sugar
100g butter (softened)

Method
1. Pre heat the oven to 170 degrees Celsius
2. Grease a baking tray
3. Put the plain flour, caster sugar and butter ingredients together in a large bowl and rub the mixture together between your thumbs and fingertips until the texture becomes moist like play doh. If you are adding any other ingredients do this now, if the mixture feels a little dry, simply add a spoon of warm water.
4. Take a small handful of dough and roll in your palm until you have a ball of dough.
5. Put the ball of dough onto the greased baking tray and press flat with a fork (the mixture will be gooey and try to fall apart, if it's too dry add two teaspoons of water.)
6. Once all the mixture is divided into cookies, bake for 20-25 minutes.
7. Add decorations when the cookies are still warm and soft!

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Two Years Too Long

Two years ago today our beautiful Nana passed away. She was strong and wise and very loved. Today we honored her memory together. My wounds are still raw, and although I thought the pain would ease over time, somehow it seems to swell. I would have loved to share so many things that have happend this year with her especially with my sister being pregnant. My Nana didn't deserve the life she had.. she deserved so much more. She was special, a nana who loved all her grandchildren equally and I'm so glad I got to tell her how much I loved her before she past away!

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