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Grace Across the Miles

By Christine Dillon

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October 1988
Nepean River, Sydney

“That’s impossible!” Gina’s voice rose as she stared at her father. “Totally impossible.”
Her dad moved over on the grassy hillock, where they were watching the Head of the River rowing championships, and put his arm around her.
Gina shook off his embrace. “How can I be adopted? All those photos in my album!” Including photos of herself as a newborn clearly labelled with the date she’d always celebrated as her birthday.
“We took you home three days after you were born,” he said.
So was the date on the photos her real birth date or the date she went home from hospital? Had she been celebrating the wrong birthday all these years? She shivered and pulled her knees up towards her chest.
Was it only this morning that she had been bubbling with excitement to go and watch her brother Bruce compete in the championships? Rowing was a family sport. Dad had missed out on the Commonwealth Games due to illness, but he had always dreamed that one of his sons might make it. To give the boys the greatest possible chance they’d been sent to board at a top private school. It cost a fortune, but Bruce’s First VIIIs and IVs were the favourites for this year.
She jerked her chin towards the boats. “What about Bruce? And Grant?”
“No, they’re not adopted.”
Her father touched her shoulder and she willed herself not to push him away again. He was the one family member she was closest to.
“We love you just as much as your brothers.”
Her eyes teared up. He might love her as much, but she couldn’t say the same about her mother. Not that her mother was exactly a model of motherliness to Grant and Bruce either. They’d all been tiptoeing around her for years, anxious not to tip her over some unseen edge.
Gina took a deep breath and deliberately relaxed her tense shoulders. “I had no idea ...” Her voice shook. “We all seem to fit together. I even look like you.”
“I love it when people say you look like me,” her father said. “You’ve made me proud every day of your life. We didn’t think we’d ever have children, and then you came along.”
Up until that moment, she’d never suspected she didn’t belong. Her chest ached as though the wind had been knocked out of her. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”
“It was tricky,” he said. “I wanted to tell you when you were eighteen, but your mother objected.”
So he’d backed down. Protecting mother had become the family’s preoccupation. None of them wanted to ever again experience years like those when Gina was in junior high school. Back then, she’d had to help her father do all the housework because her mother had retreated into her own world. Gina had buckled down and carried far more of a load than any teenager should have had to. Her cheeks flushed with past embarrassment. She had never mentioned her mother in case people asked questions. Sometimes her mother had been almost normal, just kind of spaced out. Yet other times, she’d been downright peculiar. The problem was that Gina had never known at breakfast whether the day was going to be good or bad, and things often deteriorated rapidly. It had become easier to avoid inviting friends around altogether.
And if Gina hadn’t made that casual comment today about her disappointment with her own rowing form compared to her brothers, perhaps her father wouldn’t have said anything. When had he intended telling her she was adopted? When she was about to get married? When she’d had a baby? When Mum died?
In the rational part of her brain, she understood there were problems with revealing the news at any time. But right now, she wasn’t feeling logical. Right now, she was angry he’d left telling her until now. And she was disappointed that he had put her mother’s needs ahead of hers. As usual.
The rowers were now approaching the finish line. Gina couldn’t see who was in front, but it looked like a tight race. She got to her feet. Other groups scrambled up too, and tension crackled through the air. Would the favourites win, or would something unexpected happen? Gina’s father joined her, and they watched in growing anticipation as Bruce’s team came level with where they were standing. It was a close contest between three crews. Less than a minute later, Bruce’s team crossed the line first and the elation of his win overlaid the churning in her gut.
“I know this discussion isn’t over,” her father said, setting off towards the finish line, “but let’s go and congratulate Bruce.”
Gina scurried after him.
She still had so many questions, but whether he’d answer them was the big unknown.

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