Space: Three Parents and a Half Sister

By Diane Koopman

Julie's Story: Julie has an idyllic childhood, loved and nurtured by the adults in her life, who unbeknownst to her have an unconventional dynamic. Being raised by her biological mother Leyna, Leyna's partner Lisa and her biological father Boss is all she knows. Together with the community of extended family and friends who ensure her developmen

• Language: English
• Publisher: Blue Feather Books
• Release date: Feb 14, 2022
• ISBN: 9780995436558

Diane Koopman

Diane Koopman was born in Sydney Australia in 1975. She lived in Malta, her parents' birthplace, as a child and returned to Sydney in 1982. She grew up in the Western Suburbs, and lived all over the state in her early adulthood; from the Blue Mountains to the Inner City. She now resides on the Northern Beaches with her family.

Book preview

Part One - Julie

I was nearly five when my baby sister was born, and I remember the day like it was yesterday. I was with my grandma Grace, my mother Leyna’s mum, sitting in the sunroom of her home sorting buttons. She had, what to my child-mind seemed like thousands of them, all different shapes, sizes and colours, which she kept in a round ornate biscuit tin. We made pictures of things; flowers, faces, shapes. We sorted the colours, threaded them through yarn, and played with them for hours whenever I visited. Somehow, I understood that this was no ordinary visit. They had all been preparing me for this day for a long time. All the doctor visits my mothers had to go to, the sadness that enveloped the house for the weeks after each disappointment. The hope of trying again and again, and then the cycle of grief returning. Leyna then told me I would be her only baby, which made our relationship special, but that my dad, Boss, would give me a sister and she would be born to my other mother Lisa. I recall that conversation with clarity too. Me, lying cosy in my bed, sleep weighing down my eye lids, Leyna’s gentle hands stroking my hair into bliss and Lisa rubbing my feet and tickling my toes at the end of the bed, before squeezing in beside us so that they could both cuddle me. After that conversation things started to look up and before too long, Lisa’s belly began to swell, and the house was full of excitement and love again. Boss was around more too, and it was a joyous and celebratory time. One we had all been holding out for, for far too long.

My sister Lucy was born prematurely. She was such a tiny little baby, everybody says, and to them I’m sure she was because they were all so big. But to me she was the perfect size. Like a dolly. I saw her in the hospital in her special bed, wires sticking out everywhere, her small head covered in an oversized, crocheted beanie, all rolled up to fit her, her nappy enormous on her little body, her tiny fingers wrapped around the crocheted tentacles of a toy octopus. Everyone talks about how fragile she was, but all I remember thinking was that she must have been born small because she was mine. They made her the perfect size for me, they were all just too big to appreciate it. That thought never left me and I claimed Lucy as my baby, not my sister. Lisa told me she felt the same way about her own little sister Lydia when they were young. She laughed at the memory, telling me she had never really thought about it that way until I’d articulated it for her.

When Lucy was born, I felt responsible for her. They all told me that she was going to need all of us to look after her and I happily obliged. I started to call my mums by their first names shortly after she was born, and they never objected to it, knowing it was my way of asserting myself as a surrogate adult in the family. Lucy, as far as I know, always did, never once calling them Mum or Mummy as I had before she came along. That was my family. Four women, two small ones and two big ones, living together happily at our house in Ingleside. Surrounded by trees and plants, Lisa’s nursery blooming and breathing around us, not only sustaining and providing for us, but also protecting us. As a five-year-old I felt as though we lived deep in a forest, protected from the outside world. We had to unavoidably venture out to go to school and the shops and to visit people, but once we returned home, we were cocooned in our peaceful little sanctuary of greenery, love, and peace. They were the happiest days of my life; made happier by the arrival of Lucy and the knowledge that I would have an ally forever.

We still all gather at the farm in Ingleside to reminisce about the years past, each one of us sharing a memory known only to ourselves, recollected from our own unique perspective, forming the tapestry of our family, and enriching the connections we have made with each other over the years. Most of my memories are happy, though we had some dark days, as most families do, don’t they? But Lucy and I were solid. As much as I protected and embraced her, she clung to me for safety and security, rarely leaving my side. We had each other’s backs.

It wasn’t always easy for Lisa and Leyna, I realised as I grew older and more aware. They protected us from their struggles. We had no idea how much they had to work every day to live in a world determined to undermine their love. A family doesn’t exist in a vacuum. We are all individuals connected by common threads that unfortunately are ordered into hierarchies of importance, ones we don’t design ourselves. Most people strive to assimilate to those conditions. Some people, by virtue of their own identity and character, often not of their own choice or making, are placed outside those norms and fight every day to erode the barriers that exclude them. Invisible, imaginary obstacles perpetuated by ignorance and greed mostly. For some people, simply existing is an act of rebellion. Those divisions make or break families and the generational trauma is a difficult cycle to interrupt. I read something once that really got me looking at the people that I encountered differently. If you can trace back your heritage, your lineage clearly for more than a couple of generations, you are truly privileged. Most of these people take for granted that their ancestors are documented and afforded legitimacy. For many, that history is lost and likely deliberately disrupted and destroyed by war, poverty, and persecution. The only way to preserve a lineage is to adhere to strict protocols that allow you, begrudgingly not benevolently, to live in peace, to accumulate wealth (not always material) and health, and to be documented whether through official channels or the freedom of an artistic pursuit. If you exist outside what the rules of the time state are acceptable, you literally spend your life fighting to prove you exist and matter. Over time, it has become clear that more people exist that don’t naturally adhere to those narrow definitions. For a long time, they were labelled minorities, but they are very literally the majority, simply disparaged or marginalised. However, for every inch of progress, there is a mile of backlash and when people don’t learn from the error of their ways, they are doomed to repeat them. Once and for all I learned that most people survive when they realise their very existence can’t be denied, can’t be destroyed. Eventually the tables have to turn. And around it goes.

1

Julie spat out the worm with such force that she face-planted into the vegetable patch where she and Lisa had been kneeling, pulling out the weeds and dead leaves, looking for pests and whispering lovingly to the produce. She sat bolt upright and put on a brave face at first. She knew she already had Lisa’s attention, who simply waited and observed, to see if Julie would dust herself off and continue, but then the howling started. Slowly at first, Julie’s bottom lip trembled as she bit down on it, her face red and contorted, fat tears welling in her shiny dark brown eyes. An open mouth gasp, then silence, the loaded type when you know a kid is just taking in air, building all their grief up, ready to unleash it on you in an ear-piercing torrent of a shriek like one of their limbs was being severed.

Julie screamed loudly. Lisa knew she wasn’t in pain, that cry sounded different. This was a cry of humiliation and shock. A child’s awareness that they did something very wrong and weren’t sure of the consequences. Was she in trouble? Was she going to die? Is the worm ok?

‘Are you ok honey?’ Lisa fought as hard as she could not to screech with laughter herself and tackle Julie onto the ground to cover her with kisses and tickles. Leyna had been telling her to treat her more maturely. Julie was soon to start school and according to the theories Leyna subscribed to, which Lisa never really bothered to learn, they were supposed to stop treating her like a baby.

Poor little Julie’s face was covered in soil, her tears streaking muddily down her face. Her snot bubbled at one nostril and her mouth was still agape, sending a trickle of drool and ‘worm slime’, as Julie later referred to it, down her chin and onto her t-shirt. Lisa held back, looked at her with all the love she could muster and patiently waited for Julie to get her breath back and stop crying, motioning only to offer her the nearby handtowel so she could clean herself up. Julie took the towel and licked it, again and again, vigorously wiping her tongue and spitting a few times.

‘I have to get the worm slime off’, she sobbed, then blew her nose noisily into it and smeared the contents all over her face as she wiped the dirt off. What emerged from that handtowel was a red and wet cherub of a face, with a large green booger stuck to her eyebrow and the resolve of a middle-aged woman.

‘Why did you eat that worm, sweetheart?’, Lisa asked gently, still holding back a giggle.

‘I wanted to see if it tasted like pink.’ Julie smiled at the thought of strawberries, then immediately grimaced at the memory of what she had just done. Lisa could hold back no longer.

‘Come here my darling!’ she exclaimed and wrapped her arms around her daughter, breathing in the smell of her hair and feeling every inch of her warm little body, melting against her own. It was then she remembered the booger on her eyebrow, held Julie away from her in stifled alarm and wiped it off with the handtowel. There was nothing that disgusted Lisa more than snot!

‘It’s probably time to go inside anyway. Leyna will be home from work soon and we should get dinner on. These carrots and potatoes are going to be so delicious! Will you help me wash and peel them?’

Julie nodded and looked around for her bucket, filled with leaves and weeds she’d collected earlier. She held the bucket out to Lisa.

‘Can we cook these ones?’

‘No sweetheart. They’re not for eating. We can put them in the cubby soup later. Let’s go.’

Lisa wiped her hands over her jeans and walked towards the house, stopping every now and then to make sure Julie was following closely behind.

The afternoons were getting darker earlier and the air cooled quicker. Autumn had arrived, slowing the growth and yellowing the leaves. It felt like they’d only just had a short holiday up on the North Coast, a few days over the Easter long weekend and they’d been swimming, it had been that warm. Within a few weeks, the weather had turned, and they were lighting the fireplace and wearing their Ugg boots, particularly in the very early and late hours of the days as they became shorter. The seasons didn’t have a transitional period anymore it seemed. It simply felt like it was summer one day and winter the next. Lisa didn’t mind that clear distinction, it suited her personality of extremes. Leyna was different. She enjoyed the mild weather and claimed to notice it more; the warming up in spring and the cooling down in autumn. It was getting harder to identify those days lately. It was either boiling hot or freezing cold. Like Lisa. There was no in between. Yes or no. Black or white. No grey area. Just make a decision, pick one, stop mucking around.

While they were mostly in a good place, the failed attempts at conceiving another child was starting to take its toll. Leyna decided she was ready for another baby around the time that Julie turned four. They’d gathered at her mother’s place in Warriewood, who’d agreed to have everyone over and cut a cake for Julie, nothing fussy. Leyna’s brother Marty, his partner Sue and their three children were back in the country after a few touring dates in the US. Marty’s band had had international success on both the live fronts and in the charts and Sue had become their manager. She was dedicated and enthusiastic, a competent and efficient businesswoman and a capable organiser. At first, she had respected Marty’s space and his band’s decision-making process, but soon, all her friendly advice and helping out was recognised by everyone involved as more than just valuable input from a family member. The band members kept going to her for support, they continued to include her, and she joked that she needed to start invoicing them. So, she did. They drew up a contract and she started arranging their promotion, marketing and bookings. She even dabbled in a bit of merchandising. She’d had a bit of experience here and there in those aspects, having worked in a variety of similar fields, but mostly she was simply personable and intelligent. She got them recording and releasing songs independently and once their music found its way onto social media and community radio, things just took off. Soon, they were playing festivals and supporting big overseas names and once they released their first full indie album, things went well. They toured the country and before too long, they were everywhere. That is, everywhere that was cool. They didn’t feel like they ever got their mainstream success, but that’s not what they’d wanted anyway. Their fan base was big enough to support them, but they were able to maintain that underground sensibility that bands tend to strive for. Who wants to be played in an elevator? They worked consistently and made a decent living, which is all any of them ever wanted. They also had lives outside the band, most of them having relationships and families, some even running their own businesses on the side. Boss, the lead guitarist and Julie’s dad, got into property. He just put his money into bricks and mortar and grew a decent portfolio. It allowed him to make an income and live like an artist, focusing on his music and writing songs. He enjoyed his rock star privileges for a time and had a number of casual relationships, still being known for his magnetism and charisma with women. Nobody expected him to settle down, but he did eventually. He married an international model who was Scandinavian born but was living in New York where they’d met. They got together when they were both enjoying their newfound success and found solace in each other, agreeing to make a commitment neither one of them had attempted before.

Boss remained close to Leyna and Julie, they had a loving family unit. There was a period of uncertainty that they all eventually laughed at, when Leyna and Lisa had gotten together. It had surprised everyone in Leyna’s life, and for a while, people were waiting for it to fizzle out, thinking it a phase, but that never happened and soon everyone got on with their lives and accepted that Lisa was now her life partner. Boss adored Julie and without any real orchestration, he was present as her dad and close to her mums. When he was touring, he wrote them long and funny emails, he brought back gifts and spent time with them when he returned. He spent time with Julie on his own and insisted Lisa and Leyna do things together as a couple and proved himself capable of being a good father and role model and a great friend. He and Marty were like brothers and it developed into an extended family rather naturally.

Marty was always like an excited puppy when it came to the success of the band. He never actually believed the luck they’d had and often joked that they were riding on the coat tails of Boss’s good looks and Sue’s brains. He stayed humble and the one thing that he always said meant the most to him, alongside his love for Sue, his bond with Boss and his joy of playing music, was the adoration he had for his children. Marty’s devotion to his kids was his reason for living. They’d had a son first and that was more than enough for him. He’d been the happiest he ever was the minute he became a father and didn’t think life could get any better. Until Sue unexpectedly conceived again, and they found out she was carrying twin girls. They’d been living in New York and thought she’d had the flu, but soon realised she was pregnant. The twins, Ina and Josie, were born two years almost to the day after their brother Luis and were children reared on the road. Marty and Sue were good travellers and took their family, sometimes including Sue’s older son Jake, who still lived with Sue’s parents, on the road with ease.

The band were home from touring in Europe and the US and had come home for a year of rest and reconnection, before embarking on recording their next album. So, there they all were at Grace and Daniel’s home, Leyna and Marty’s parents, a reunion of sorts in a house overlooking the ocean at Warriewood beach. They’d finally settled in and furnished it, fulfilling their wish of having their children and their grandchildren all together in one place for a change. They’d missed Marty’s kids’ birthdays; Luis was almost three and the twins were one, as they were always out of Sydney, but had celebrated Julie’s each year with a visit or an outing. Julie’s fourth birthday had unexpectedly come around at a time when everyone was in town and Leyna agreed with her mother that it would be a good idea to get everyone together. At first, she’d been apprehensive. While Leyna had met Boss’s wife, Gordana had not met Lisa or had the opportunity to meet Leyna and Marty’s parents. Big gatherings like that were rare and they were important, and Leyna was naturally anxious. She wanted things to go smoothly and more than anything, she wanted to enjoy her nephew and nieces and get the cousins together. It couldn’t have gone better if she’d micromanaged it like she wanted to, only taking a step back at Lisa’s insistence.

Leyna’s heart was full that day, surrounded by the important people in her life, the people she loved and those who she was connected to through her birth and choices. Lisa and Julie didn’t stop smiling the entire day and that was all that mattered to Leyna. Her parents wiped away tears of joy for most of the day and she loved seeing them living out their retirement enveloped by the love of their grown-up children and grandkids. Marty and Sue filled the house with boisterous laughter, hilarious banter and anecdotes, and an easy-going love that was contagious. Their children were young and still very dependent, but an absolute pleasure, and demonstrated a flexibility and ease that was a testament to the carefree lifestyle their parents had created for them on the road. Sue’s older son Jake was as surly as any teenager and made a short appearance, before leaving to meet some mates nearby. Boss and Gordana were shy at first and respectfully took their places as guests, but soon were embraced and welcoming of the family dynamic that insisted on their participation and presence.

It was in that bubble of love and joy that Leyna decided she wanted another child and it was time to start thinking about how she would make that happen. Admittedly, she’d had a couple of champagnes and had ventured out onto the balcony overlooking the waves, when Lisa followed her out and put her arms around her. They both had felt the love and belonging among the family and friends that had gathered that day and had enjoyed playing with Ina and Josie the most, reliving that precious time when a baby is older than a fragile newborn, but still cuddly and scrumptious. They’d both giggled and laughed at smelling soft fuzzy heads and kissing chunky limbs and fingers. They’d got together when Julie was around the same age and had always talked about embarking on the journey of parenthood together some day. They thought they’d know when it was the right time, and that time had finally arrived. They didn’t need to say much. They were ready.

2 - Julie

It’s funny how you remember things from when you were a child. They seem so clear in your mind, the events that stand out. Like, I can remember what I was wearing or where I was standing when something significant happened, but then I talk about it with Lisa or Leyna and they may remember it differently, seeing the world through their own