A MAGIC MOMENT

I always love sundown. There is a magic point in time where the sun hits our old barn and it’s like a switch is flicked on and the roof and timbers glow.

I find myself waiting with bated breath for that moment. Of course, there are a lot of days where cloud or rain obscure the sun – but that’s life! When the magic happens, it makes the wait all worthwhile. I get an inner sense of warmth and peace that for some reason makes me feel complete.

So many iconic moments of my life centre on that old barn with its weathered timbers and rusty roof. I was actually born in that barn and most of my childhood was spent playing in it too. I first met the person who was to become the centre of my existence there and then he proposed to me in that same barn. We were also married there too. As I said, that old barn featured in so much of my life.

I was raised on this property by my beautiful parents, Mum Jill and Dad Jack – yeah, go on laugh, everyone did, including them.

I can honestly say I had the happiest childhood one could hope for. We weren’t well off by any measure but I don’t think I ever missed out on anything I needed. Like all kids, I didn’t get everything I wished for but I never felt like I missed out on things. I was taught the meaning of earning your keep, everyone needs to pitch in on a farm and Dad led by example. He taught me everything he could about the farm and I loved the days spent with him out and about fencing and caring for our stock. Mum and I often went together with Dad but there were times I spent just with Mum. Girl time she would joke. Cooking up a storm in the kitchen was our favourite and Mum was a great cook. She made the most magnificent chocolate cake that just melted in your mouth.

I loved it all and I felt nothing but love for and from my parents.

When I was 20, my dad needed more assistance to run the farm. He hated to admit it but his age was starting to impact what he could do around the place. Mum and I helped as much as possible which he appreciated. Man-power, literally, was what he needed most. So, he hired a string of farm hands over the following year. Unfortunately, none stacked up to Dad’s, or our, high standards. He was feeling very depressed when, at our Sunday prayer meeting, our local church Minister, Father Brian, mentioned a fellow he thought would be ideal. Apparently, he had only just moved to the area with his family. Dad said he was willing to give him a trial if Father Brian could organise for him to come out to the property.

Monday dawned bright and crisp. Late Autumn was a good time on the farm. Not too hot, not too cold. I always referred to it as my Goldilocks season. It was just right.

I had been up for a few hours already, most of my pre-breakfast jobs done, when I turned to walk back to the house and was confronted by our stud bull. How the hell it got loose from the paddock, I had no idea, but it was not looking happy.

I had nothing with me to try to coax it back to its paddock and I didn’t want to startle it and have myself skewered on the end of his horns as a trophy so I cautiously tried to make my way towards the house.

Suddenly, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a car coming up our driveway. Unfortunately, the bull saw it too. He stomped several times, kicking up a cloud of dust and I knew instantly, I would not make it to the house. A quick mental calculation had me running at break-neck speed for the old barn with the raging bull now hot on my heels.

Gasping, I dove through the doorway and headed for the ladder to the loft. Thank God I had climbed that ladder thousands of times because this time was a matter of life or death – or at the least a very nasty injury.

Lucky for me I made it and got high enough before he caught up.

Thankfully I didn’t have to wait long before he lost interest and ambled outside again.

I sat in the loft, regaining my breath and composure, when a figure entered the barn. From where I was, I couldn’t see who it was as the light was coming from behind them.

I heard a deep chuckle and a voice laughingly telling me it was safe to come down. What a hide! If he had been the one in the car then it was his fault the bull had charged. I was not in the mood for some smart aleck.

I climbed down the ladder, ready to give this clown a piece of my mind but when I looked up at him, I couldn’t remember a thing I wanted to say.

That was the day I met Rob Cooke who is now my husband. He turned out to be not only the best thing in the world to me but also our farm. Mum, Dad, Rob and I just clicked together like a jigsaw puzzle. We were all on the same page with the direction the farm needed to go and how to work to improve the land.

It wasn’t all smooth sailing at first though. Instead of just being the man-power that Dad needed, he started making suggestions about the running of the farm. As I had completed years of study, both at the Agriculture College and further studies at University, I felt that he was stepping in my domain. But Rob had plenty of hands-on experience from growing up on his family’s farm. Unfortunately, hard times and his father’s ill health had led to the sale of their property. This had prompted Rob to put a lot of thought into how to safeguard a farm from hard times if he ever got another chance.

In those early days, Rob often joined us on the verandah in the late afternoon for a relaxing drink and a chat.

One day, he asked about my fixation with the barn when the sun was setting. I hadn’t realised that he had picked up on it.

I thought I would try to explain my feeling around the old barn. Being born in it was an obvious start but what he hadn’t known was that my mum and dad were not my biological parents.

We didn’t know who they were. My mum, Jill, had found me one morning wrapped up and laid in the hay. No note or anything of that nature. All the usual steps were taken with the Police to try to identify the person but no trace was ever found.

Mum and Dad had not been blessed with children and so with the help of Father Brian, they applied to adopt me. Mum said I was a blessing from heaven. They never hid the facts from me and even encouraged me to try to locate my biological mother through one of those ancestry DNA sites when I was older. But I was happy and content with Mum and Dad and never felt the urge to follow that course.

As I explained all this to Rob, I think he could see why the barn was such a focal point and so special for me.

A Sad Time

Now, today, six years later, I sit here again looking at the barn. I feel so totally lost. We just buried Mum and Dad yesterday. They were killed in a car accident a couple of weeks ago. I’m trying to let the anger go. They were so close to home when a car overtook a truck and ran head on into them. They didn’t stand a chance.

Rob came out with a cup of tea and a piece of chocolate cake. When I had smelt it cooking, I was picturing Mum in the kitchen, floral apron on and covered in flour. He had made it using Mum’s recipe knowing it was my favourite and he thought it would comfort me. I appreciated his efforts, as I knew he was feeling the loss like me. He had become so close to Mum and Dad over the years.

Rob looked down at the suspicious, mysterious, package, wrapped in brown paper, that lay on my lap.

“You still haven’t opened it”, he said.

Father Brian had handed me the parcel before he left us after the wake. All he said was that Mum and Dad had given it to him for safe keeping with the instruction to give it to me if anything happened to them.

“I understand”, said Rob, “but you have me right here with you for support, no matter what it is”.

I nodded, took a deep breath and undid the brown paper.

On the top was an envelope with 'To Carly’ written on it in Mum’s handwriting. Underneath was a large, plain brown box.

I opened the letter and started to read:

Dear Carly,

If you are reading this then I imagine you are feeling sad. Please don’t let our passing overwhelm you.

You were a gift from God to us and we were so grateful for your love. You gave your Dad and I so much joy over the years and we were so very happy when you found Rob to be your life partner.

It is because of this support, that we know he will give you, that I wanted you to have all the information we had about your birth. I know you always said you weren’t interested in tracking your biological parents down but one day you and Rob may want to start a family of your own and your feelings may change when that time comes.

Remember our love is with you always.

Mum and Dad

*******

I was having trouble reading towards the end – I couldn’t see the page for my tears.

Rob just gave me a hug. He knew words weren’t going to help much today.

When I felt a bit steadier, I opened the box. It contained copies of all the Police reports and investigations from different Government Departments. It looked like she had tracked down anything and everything that might help me find my mother.

At the bottom of the box was a plastic bag. Inside, wrapped in tissue paper, was a white knitted cardigan. On the front of the cardigan, near the collar, was an applique of marigolds. It was beautiful.

From what I remembered Mum had said, I was wrapped in a cardigan when she found me. This must have been it.

Suddenly the possibility of looking for my mother was real and present. With Mum and Dad gone, I knew it wouldn’t hurt them or their memory.

With Rob by my side, one day in the future, I might take that path and see where it leads. For now, I will wait for that magic moment when the sun lights up my place of birth with a magnificent glow.

Written by Margaret Flood