Week 3 - Inlaws

Peter and I first met while at school. He dated a couple of my friends but we never got to know each other real well then. Over the years we had more mutual friends in common and got to know each other a little better.

In 1984 I went on a holiday to Sydney, Melbourne and Canberra with Judy a friend of mine for 2 weeks. On my return I spent a couple of days with another friend of mine Lola in my hometown of Ipswich.

One Friday we decided to go to the Metropole Hotel for lunch. While walking in I ran into Peter coming out. We talked for a bit. I asked him if he had finished building his home and when would I get an invite over? Peter told Lola and I to come over that night and then we could then go to the local tavern for a drink afterwards.

Later that night at the tavern I was surprised to see Lola making what I thought was a play for Peter and to hear her offering to cook a meal for Peter some time. I really liked Peter. So when we were leaving I took Lola home first which was 15 minutes away then came back to drop Peter off two blocks from the pub.

Having a drink at Peter’s he thrust a pen and paper in my hand and asked me for Lola’s name and phone number. I quickly told him that she had a boyfriend already. I wasn’t lying as she did. While Peter was surprised to hear that, he wasted no time asking me if I wanted to go to a farm auction with him on the Sunday.

I said yes and that was the beginning of our courtship. With me living at Caloundra on the Sunshine Coast and Peter in Ipswich we use to take turns visiting each other on the weekends. He would stay with me in the caravan I was paying off and when I came down I would stay with my aunty or at Peter’s.

Most weekends were spent either at the beach or at car swap meets and car runs or just hanging out watching videos with friends. Once a month or so we would go to either Surfers or Lakeside motorway with Peter’s friend Wayne Zimmerman as his “pit crew” for when he was racing. Wayne later on would become my brother in law. Nothing too strenuous. Just relaxing.

I never expected Peter to ask me to marry him. It came out of the blue, none of the talking about it that you hear some other couples say. I had just had a period of about 3 weeks of being really sick. I had just about every test imaginable to try and find out what was wrong and had lost heaps of weight.

They never did find out what was wrong with me but I always tell everyone that Peter proposed as he thought I was going to die and never expected to be stuck with me!

Our engagement was not the most orthodox in regards to my in-laws. Peter and I started dating on the 19th May 1984 and his parents left two days later for a holiday back to their homeland of Germany and Poland. Hence I didn’t meet them prior to them leaving.

Peter proposed to me on September 7th that same year and his parents had returned from their holiday the day before. On the 9th there was an afternoon tea to welcome them home at Barbara’s (Peter’s older sister).

Now at this time I should point out that when Peter proposed I had visions of enjoying my new extended family. The type of things like shopping with his 3 sisters and family get togethers. Especially since my sister being 7 years younger than me, we weren’t close.


Anyway back to the 9th September. We walked into Barbara’s and all the family was sitting around – in order of age there was Liz, Henry Barbara and Rita and their spouses as well as Peter’s parents. Nervous excitement and joy had butterflies fluttering in my stomach.

Peter proudly stood in the lounge room and said I have an announcement to make, “Kerrie and I are getting married!” Well I have never seen so many jaws drop and stay that way. The house was so quiet that you could of heard a pin drop. The whole time I was standing there feeling myself getting redder and redder with embarrassment and wishing the floor would open up. The butterflies in my stomach suddenly became lead balloons weighing me down.

The first person to speak was Peter’s father who asked if I was pregnant. Peter replied no in no uncertain terms. I was gob smacked and it must have reflected on my face because Barbara quickly jumped up to congratulate us. After that everyone did the same. I can say for sure that wasn’t’ how I had envisioned the afternoon going.

I should also let you know that getting ready to go to the afternoon tea I got dressed in a good pair of jeans and a button thru blouse. Peter said I should probably change, as his family would be all dressed up. This was foreign to me as I was from a background of turn up whenever you wanted in what you had on as long as it was clean and tidy. So sitting there everyone all dressed to the nines in stockings, makeup and all and me in a dress (yes I did get changed to go) but feeling totally aware that I didn’t come up to standards and things weren’t looking good for me.


That next week Peter’s father had a talk to him. Asked him if I was after his money. Well news to both of us that he had any. Yes Peter owned his own home, well paying it off to his parents but that was it. I had a job earning a lot more than Peter did, owned my own 33-foot caravan that I lived in and took holidays twice a year interstate.

It became clear from the first moment that I wasn’t “of the right class”. I did have being catholic going for me though. And like all naïve young people, I thought love would conquer all and they would grow to love me. How wrong I was.

Peter and I planned our wedding and paid for it ourselves. I tried to involve Peter’s parents but they didn’t really want to know. They just turned up at the wedding like any other guests. I remember Peter’s mother telling me years later that dancing at weddings was to bring good luck. Then saying, “The only one I didn’t dance at was yours”.

After we were married if we bought anything it had Peter’s father saying to him, she is spending all your money. He didn’t class my working as bringing money into the household; I was just in this for what I could get out of it, according to him.

I felt so upset about their opinion of me, that when we made our wills I had it drawn up that the house was left to Peter’s parents if anything happened to him and not to me. I know I was looking for their acceptance into the family but even this didn’t prove to them that I was genuine.

Another contributing problem at this time was that Peter also worked for his father as a painter. Peter hates conflict and always found it easier to say nothing. Even with me after 24 years we still haven’t had a fight – well I have, Peter just doesn’t fight.

What did bring about a truce of sorts was Christmas day seven years later. I had put up with snide remarks and put-downs for all that time and finally I had enough.

Ryan had been diagnosed and had an understanding of what was happening to him. He also knew that Peter’s parents couldn’t’ handle it and so would have himself in pain trying not to let them see he couldn’t do things properly. To see my little boy getting himself to that stage cut me to the core.

I’d had enough of pussy footing around the in-laws so THEY didn’t get upset. I can’t remember exactly what sparked my outburst it could have been something as little as I use the wrong washing liquid – yes that is some of the things I would get told.

I told them exactly how I felt and what I thought. How for years I had put up with them accusing me of spending money and not being good enough and how everything I did was wrong. I told them that it was enough now as their grandson was getting himself to the stage of not being able to walk for hours just so they wouldn’t get upset. That enough was enough and they had to accept us or leave us alone!!

There were a lot of tears from both sides but at least things did improve.

My parents on the other hand treated Peter as one of their own right from the start. It was a joke, although a lot of truth in it, that if anything ever happened to us, they would choose Peter over me. Twenty-Three years later and its still like that.

It’s funny to see how life evolved. While I am getting on better with Peter’s family now, I am finding I am getting more distant from my own. But that’s another story for later.