This book is about a family of 15 living in Australia and the experiences they each went through during the childhood years, and as they were growing up. Told by each of them individually, it's a unique perspective of not only their experiences as they remembered them but also their families perspective of them.
For many years now I've told stories about my childhood, and oftentimes someone would say, "you should write a book!? Well here it is, a memoir, as I see it, growing up in Australia. A narrative of our lives and a keepsake to hand down to our children, and our grandchildren.
We frequently ask ourselves questions about the past, but all too often it is forgotten, as if it never was, and our memories are replaced by more recent events. They are often only aroused when reminiscing with loved ones. Throughout this book you will find stories coming from my senses, the way I remember them, but my family have also contributed. For when I told them what I was doing, they were inspired and spurred on to also look into their past. After the chapter I devoted to each of them, you will find their own memories.
On recollecting past events, we often found ourselves contradicting each other, however this wasn't because of our uncertainties about the past, but rather the age of the person at the time of the event. For no matter how I see things, these thoughts coming from my senses, can be seen so different in the eyes of someone else. So different in the eyes of a sibling much older or younger, in a family with thirteen children.
Because of the Aussie jargon and the different way in which we spell some of our words, I have included a glossary of words in the back of the book.
My memories of our past start with our mother Thelma (affectionately nicknamed the Colonel by her sons-in-law), followed by our father Bill, our stepfather Bob, then my siblings descending from the oldest Coral, to Shane the youngest. The account of incidents and events throughout each person's memories are in no particular order, and were written as they came to mind, but not all of my family shared their memories; not for lack of wanting to, but rather a shyness in reflecting their feelings on paper or because they had passed away.
Life was full of adventure, sadness, confusion and drama in our house, but I guess it depended on how old you were at the time, that made them adventurous, sad, confusing or dramatic events, and when I think back to our childhood years, I'm caught between pain and laughter. Pain when I think of things I would rather forget, and laughter so great, it brings tears to my eyes. With so many different personalities in the one household, things weren't always as they appeared, but it wasn't until years later when reminiscing that we realized just how all of our personalities intermingled and made us into the secure and determined people we are today. We each resembled our parents, but we were different in our own small, but distinct way. Myself, I'm smack bang in the middle of six boys and six girls, and although we were never well off, I often thought we were, because of our closeness. We had a lot of joy in our lives, and we were never short of love and support for each other.
