But everybody knows there were the haves and the have-nots. Everyone knows that lots of the have-nots went to England, to become the underclass of the postwar industrial boom, to try to make good, or to have their babies in secret.
For others there were the industrial schools, the county homes, the asylums, the laundries, and the Mother and Baby Homes. Nearly everyone over the age of forty knows of someone who was incarcerated in one of these institutions, if only for a time. Nowadays, blogs, advice columns, and chat rooms online reveal thousands of people searching for information about their mothers, sisters, aunts, and, weirdly, even about themselves.
If he is alive, he is only a little bit alive. This gap in time is short-circuited by the mother who gives birth to a child who dies.
Her body bursts with milk and tears and blood. Her breasts harden with unwanted milk and her eyes seep. Baptisms—and even funerals, since funerals presume a life has been lived—are one way of repudiating this unwelcome knowledge. My attempt to persuade myself, and those around me, that my own baby was barely dead at all extended beyond baptism. I wanted him beside me. I wanted to adore my sleeping child, and in fact if you cradle a small dead body close it does stay warm, or a little bit warm.
But that brings its own problems. I kept Thaddeus next to me in the hospital bed until one of the midwives suggested she take him away and pop him in the fridge for a while. Once when she arrived to take him off for his chilling, I asked, What kind of fridge? I was imagining him in one of those crime-drama metal drawers. It was one of the few really good laughs I got in those days—seeing him suddenly in with the milk and orange juice. Later, at the funeral, my sons took over the task of keeping him alive.
I must have given an inadequate answer—all I could see was how small the coffin was—because several months later he came to me in some distress to say that he was worried that Thaddeus would be getting too big for his coffin now. His older brother had a similar concern. They had each chosen a treasure to place in the coffin: a board-book version of The Very Hungry Caterpillar I tried not to think about the worm holes and a soft toy. A child who has never really been born cannot really die.
If he stretches out a hand—a wet clod, If he opens his nostrils—a dungy smell. It is a fiction, of course, to think of the dead who never made it fully into life as somehow less dead than the really dead. But it is a comforting fiction. The unconsecrated graveyards that dot the Irish countryside are home to unbaptized babies but also to criminals, suicides, and the insane.
In a secular age the natural burial that was forced on these outsiders brings them strangely closer to us—they fertilize the fields we farm and lie beneath the earth we tread. They are not set apart. Yet how comforting it would be to imagine that since the church and state institutions did not consider them persons—they were not worthy of proper burial—the rules of life and death do not apply.
They did not survive, yet they have not gone away. I cannot remember when I first heard about the existence of this cousin, whom I had never met, and who had died more than ten years before I went searching for information.
Jackie was then in his mid-thirties and living at home on the farm with his mother; most of the younger siblings were by this time working in Dublin or in London. My mother told me that during those months at home she talked to both Jackie and his lover, Lily, but they would not marry—and that this was in no small part because Lily was never going to be accepted by my grandmother. Lily was from a smaller, poorer farm, but my grandmother might have got over that. Lily went into a home to have her baby; Jackie went to work in England, and he never came home again.
The farm he was to inherit was destined instead for the second son, Stephen, who came back from Dublin to take over running it. I cannot remember exactly when I heard this story, but I believe it was ; I was in my mid-twenties and a graduate student. Nelson Mandela would soon be released from prison, the Berlin Wall had come down, and I had just given birth to my own baby. My boyfriend and I had agreed on friendly terms to go our separate ways. I would like to think I would have cared about Lily anyway, but I am sure that my shock had in part to do with the frightening difference in our situations.
Although I vaguely understood that having a baby on my own was going to be hard and it was , I never seriously doubted that I could manage it, alongside a future job, even future relationships, and possibly even future babies and I could.
I did not seriously doubt that I had a future. Certainly she expressed sadness, but beyond that I could not penetrate. And to my shame, for a time I let the whole thing go.
And we drug it out back and put it next to the house. Kim helped her clean the blood off the floors. She scrubbed the blood off the wall. She made it look normal. KIMBERLY: A couple days before she murdered him, she told the boys that we were going to plant a peach tree out back, and so they were to dig a big hole to put the tree in. Why not? Judy, said Kim, devised a cover story.
And when she said it, it sounded true. Voiceover Kim stuffed it all inside, locked up the secret, kept her mother happy. A few months later, she said, Judy had another job for Kim and her brother Shane. They had buried it in an old trunk they had on the property back then. This one is still on the porch all these years later.
Out in the yard, said Kim, they started digging. And over the years, said Kim, it was only her conflicted ties to her mother, that powerful emotional glue, that kept the two close and the secret horror bottled up. A perfect daughter could never betray her mother, nor could anyone, apparently, in the circle of deceit that grew and grew.
But betrayals were coming, and not just one. Finally, Kim would learn what could happen to a daughter who disobeyed her mother. And so they knew nothing, nothing at all. So now Kim, married with two kids of her own, returned to that childhood home and told her siblings where to dig.
Kimberly; house exterior; empty trunk; trunk latches; Ford family photos; photos of Judy and Tom; house exterior; trunk; shovel; Clark Street sign; house exterior. The secret circle grew. And Kim felt she loved her mother still, but warned her, too, it was ever harder to keep silent. Detective Brian Lee:. LEE: My first reaction was one of disbelief almost. Could this have been kept quiet that long?
Almost expecting, probably, that we were going to be there. More than a request, really. And then But, anyway, I got to go again today, but, just some things I want to get clear in my head. I know that. And it was like at that point there was no turning back.
I guess I felt like I was in a hole that I was trying to dig myself out of, a pit. I was in hell, I guess. I betrayed her and I betrayed my whole family. For three days the police dug up the past in the backyard on Clark Street. LEE: We had to go over and process that area that—where we were told the body was. Only one person could be held accountable, only Judy. But would it be justice? Or even the whole truth? Lee driving; photo of Judy; Kimberly; trunk; backyard; shovel; courthouse exterior; court in session.
Photo of Lloyd; photo of Sandy; graduation and wedding photos of Sandy and Pamela; photos of Pamela and Sandy with children. Their father never left them. It wasn't unenjoyable and I was drawn into the story but it just didn't sit right. You know when you fall asleep while watching a movie and doze for a short time, you know you missed parts of the plot but it still kind of makes sense so there was really no harm done?
That's Family Secrets. I'm going to look up a few of Wall's Family Secrets is a nice story and the characters are not flat personifications but the whole book was just a little "thin. I'm going to look up a few of Wall's other books and give her another try. Feb 07, Kimble rated it liked it. I found this book to be a fast fun read. Sometimes it's nice to read a book that the story goes in the direction of dicovering the outcomes without having you wait several chapters to find out what happened.
I liked all of the female characters, found their relationships with each other convincing. Hattie's character had experienced a lot of cruelty and hardships, she didn't make the best choices, she's the one I think about. Mar 04, Catherine rated it liked it Shelves: adult.
This review has been hidden because it contains spoilers. To view it, click here. I liked the character development in this story. I was surprised that the grandmother would try to kill her own grand daughters. I thought that was out of character but at least it made for an unexpected twist. I didn't mind not knowing how who opened the rusted door. We don't always get all the answers in real life - why should we get them in literature. Jul 27, Groovy rated it really liked it.
I really liked this story with a family history feel and surprising ending. Like so many books I have read lately the use of the Lord's name in vane was added to make the reader feel a "punch" and I found it unnecessary to the story and aggravating.
Other than th at I really did like the story. Mar 10, Melissa LifeFullyBooked rated it it was ok. Fairly boring, I couldn't really remember anything about it right after I finished. Jul 17, Peggy rated it did not like it. Feb 26, Jessica rated it really liked it Shelves: read Enjoyed this book. The first I've read by Wall; I will seek out more of her work.
Sep 19, Dpande rated it it was ok. Sep 06, Jackie rated it really liked it. Good book. It was pretty intense near the end I wasn't sure how they were going to finish it in the pages left but they did and in a great way :- Good book.
It was pretty intense near the end I wasn't sure how they were going to finish it in the pages left but they did and in a great way Mar 12, Sandy Neal rated it really liked it.
Loved it! Kept my interest. Ordered some of her other books. Oct 06, Corey rated it really liked it. I loved this book! Great writing and turned kinda creepy! Nov 12, Amy Wallace rated it it was amazing Shelves: go-to-recommendations. Literally couldn't put it down until the end and longed for continuation. So glad I took the time to finished and check off the list! Such a good and smooth read. Aug 14, Barbara rated it liked it Shelves: beach-books , chick-lit , novel.
Quick summer read. Reasonably well written and plotted although the author's romance novelist roots show through sometimes. Nov 02, Shauna rated it liked it. It was good. I liked the plot, although some of it seemed far-fetched. There are no discussion topics on this book yet. Be the first to start one ». Readers also enjoyed. About Judith Henry Wall. Judith Henry Wall. Books by Judith Henry Wall. Related Articles. I hope you will put your energy into connecting with other empathetic people who can support you through your gender and sexuality exploration.
When or if the friend asks for more detail, BOOM. You can email Amy Dickinson at askamy amydickinson. Box , Freeville, NY Note to readers: if you purchase something through one of our affiliate links we may earn a commission.
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