Benevolent Organisation Post Adoption Support

This is an awesome way of getting Post Adoption Support with the Benevolent Organisation

Main page:–adoption–support/


If you scroll down to “Stay up to date” you can click on both Sign Up links to get the newsletters (Branching Out in NSW) – regardless of where you live!


Adoption information sheets:

PARC has a series of around 30 information sheets/brochures that can be downloaded from the website.–education



The main phone number for Post Adoption Support in Brisbane is : 07 3170 4600

And the email is:



Grandparents Day 26th July, 2012

On 26th July, 2012 my granddaughter Chloe invited me to her school, Stella Maris Catholic Primary School Maroochydore Qld, to be with her for Grandparents Day.

So what do you think I said? “Yes of course.” She was a little hesitant as I am not the typical grandma package. I asked her if I needed to bring my diary and laptop and if I could bring my pool cue for show and tell. We both laughed our heads off. Well it is a bit different to knitting needles don’t you think?

photo (2)Well I was so excited I could bust. My vision of Grandparents Day was morning tea with her teacher and class mates. Oh how wrong I was. It was a full catholic gathering in the school hall with singing and a service.

Well the service began and to start off the mood the priest asked if we could find the youngest grandparent to attend this day. I immediately start to shake.

“Can anyone under the age of 30 please stand.” Nobody stood. “Can anyone under the age of 40 stand.” Nobody stood. “Can anyone under the age of 50 stand.” 2 of us stood up. He then asked the lady in front of me, “So who is your grandchild and what year are they in?” She said, “Year 1.”

He then looks at me and says, “So who is your grandchild and what year are they in?”

I say, “Chloe Wheatland and she is in year 7.”

He says “Year 1?”

I say, “No year 7.”

I did hear some silent chuckles. I could see everyone around me trying to do the math. Well after all I am sitting in a catholic church so having children young would be acceptable you would think. Well he said that I would have to be the youngest grandparent there and thanked me for coming and I sat down. Lucky for me he then proceeded to ask who was the eldest grandparent and that was an 82 year old great-grand parent, how cool is that.

The service went well and I was so proud to be there for Chloe. The morning was so funny, her little friends kept coming up and staring at me and would say to Chloe “Is that your Nanna?” and Chloe spent most of the morning giggling as her friends wanted to hang around this ‘YOUNG NANNA’ – I’m loving it. Chloe looked at me and said “Well this is awkward!” I asked why? She said, “You look too young to be my Nanna.” I just turned to her and said “Well doesn’t everyone say to you that you have a young mum?”

She said, “Yes.”

“Well it makes good sense that I would be a young Nanna then wouldn’t it?” She laughed and agreed.

Truly I felt like the Pied Piper with the trail of kids walking behind us checking me out. Some of them asked me if I was really her Grandma. I was one of the proudest grandparents there that day. I have missed many Grandparent Days while Chloe lived in Dubbo so I was very happy to spend her last with her as next year she will be a big girl in high school.

I was presented with a calender and a poem which reads:-

To our Beautiful Grandparents, Always know…..

You are loved,

You are very special,

And you are,

Thought about everyday.

Thank you for being

In our lives.


            On the side of my Calender it reads: Blessed are those who… snuggle and hug, spoil and pamper, boast and brag… For they shall be called… GRANDPARENTS!

You can be sure I do all the above.

Thank you Lord for bringing Natasha in my life early enough so that I may enjoy the precious experience of being Nanny Viv because I REALLY AM YOU KNOW.

Love to Love.

A poem by: Ayrlie Rae Timmermans “Deeper Than The Surface”

Our daughter Ayrlie is at war in Afghanistan and amongst the desert where she lives she spots a butterfly. This is  very significant to me as butterflies to me is a sign that you will be looked after/over and everything will be O.K. Read my blog; Why butterflies as well….

Grab your tissues:-


Deeper Than The Surface

Amidst the hell that is war,

Persists the innocence of life,

At the end of a gun,

A rifle, a knife;

Rests a single butterfly,

Unaware of the fight

As we stand-to,

All throughout the night.

This one innocent little butterfly,

Makes me realise a few things,

There are beauties out there,

Not just the war and its Kings.

Not the dust and the heat,

And the sound of AK’s,

But the sunrise and sunset,

The mountainous views in our way.

I was caught off guard,

I’ll admit that quite freely,

With only war one my mind,

This butterfly, it free’d me;

From my mind so set,

On my job that’s at hand,

Forgetting the real beauties,

Of this war torn land.

The Green Zone is deathly,

To any of our soldiers,

But take a step back and look,

It’s beauty’s much bolder.

I’m as green as the next guy,

Damn that’s the truth,

But that butterfly got me,

Made me think of my youth.

Switch back on Timmermans,

Apply what you’ve trained,

There’s no time for questions,

Don’t be that soldier who’s named;

Don’t be another death,

Because you’ve shown too much thought,

Success is our mission,

Just do what we’re taught.

I am as Australian soldier,

Fighting the Afghan war,

They should’ve known what was coming,

When they knocked on our door,

It might seem quite harsh,

But it’s the reality at hand,

They won’t go away,

That’s why we now stand;

As strong as we can,

As an Army force,

Fighting for our country,

We have no remorse.

Yes I am young,

I am only 19,

Although that’s just a song,

Life’s actually that mean.

Only the strong can withstand,

This life and more,

Only the dead,

Have seen the end of the war.

GNR A.R.Timmermans

16 Air Land Regiment


Afghanistan 2012


Fathers Day for Natasha 2012

Happy Fathers Day Bruce

I was Daddy’s little girl. From the moment he got that phone call from the adoption agency he knew that I was to be his.  As long as she had blue eyes he didn’t care about the rest of me.

Dad always let Mum do all the discipline. He hated getting angry at me, hated when Mum nagged at me. I even remember when one of the times I was suspended from school I came home and told him and he just laid there on the lounge with his eyes closed in silence. I was so waiting for him to explode like an angry bear and tear my head off but he didn’t. As a 13 year old I was standing there waiting in anticipation for this reaction.  I softly asked him, Dad are you going to say anything? He replied and said, “Nope- cause you’re going to have to deal with your mother!”


I hated that day as Mum went woop-arse on me so bad. He knew, he knew that I would be in for something major. As I had to spend that week at home from School with him he didn’t care. I think he liked the company to be honest.

Dad was a fibre glassier and a concreter. He had his business in the back yard of our home.  I have many memories of me mixing concrete or painting. Even still to this day I think of Dad when I smell fibre glass sheets. Dad was one of those old guys that liked to bury money in the back yard in glass Jars. But then he forgot where he put it. Hahaha it was 15 years later when we sold that house the new kids happened to be digging around playing and yep you guessed it, they found one of those jars. $500 I think.

Dad was always strong in my eyes. He would be able to lift these massive concrete statues around all by himself, cut brush with a razor sharp machete or even hold onto my black tyre tube with his toes while he held on for dear life to a tree while I was being swept away down the rapids of Wee Jasper. He saved my life that day.

He was the peace keeper but also the protector.  He was the best story teller. Most of the time he would spin the biggest bullshit stories that he became sound well known for.  “Oh shut up Fred.” We would say to him while laughing.

We were always out bush camping or swimming in rivers.  A very active lifestyle growing up.

My dad actually taught the Timmermans how to catch Yabbies in a dam with a tennis racket. Yes he did. My Dad could do anything….

Except beat Cancer.

This was the time in my life my heart broke and never mended. He was diagnosed in March 2008 with Lung Cancer.  We used to always joke for years and years he would have this because he was a heavy smoker. He actually gave up when Chloe was born but 5 years later he still was diagnosed.

I will never forget the day when the Doctor confirmed Stage 4 lung Cancer. Dad asked how long he had to live and I was crying so much and became very overwhelmed I had to run out of the room as I didn’t want to know. I knew in my heart it wouldn’t be long. I remember standing in the hallway of the Hospital crying with pain knowing that the father I know is leaving me and I can’t stop it.

How do I stop crying? The pain is so bad I feel like I’m going to vomit.

Mum and I nursed Dad for 8 months. There was not a day that went buy that I was not beside him. Sitting with him while he had Chemo, blood transfusions, Radiation or taking him to the Doctors. I remember the last week he was at home and we could not control the pain. I knew this was it. I had to take this man that nurtured and that raised me to Palliative Care to die.

I will never forget that night of the sounds he took taking his last breaths and the pain I went through watching. I lay next to his bed crying to come back but he didn’t.  At that point in my life I felt alone.  It was just me and Mum. To continue on this life which has now changed in a matter of minutes.

To look at death now I am not afraid of it. I thank my dad for saying to me in his last words ‘Be strong’.  I became angry at Viv through this time of 8 months. Viv never visited or said goodbye. I was so frustrated as all he wanted was to say thank you one last time. I remember one of the nights I slept in the seat next to his bed in the hospital and asked me did he make me happy. Yes Viv he did make me happy. Best Father I could have ever had and still to this day a man I keep buried inside my heart.

I don’t often speak of Bruce as it’s still too painful. I don’t look at photos, watch home movies or engage in memory conversations.

But for those of you that still have your Dad, enjoy them, tell him you love him. Give them a cuddle just because.

Happy Fathers Day Dad RIP 1/8/1948 – 19/10/2008