“If I’d married an American and lived in Hollywood, I’d probably be on my third husband by now.”

Following a promising career in show industry, Rachel Ward appeared to vanish from the public eye.

Rather than pursuing celebrity, she concentrated on her 39-year marriage to Bryan Brown and their expanding family.

She is devoted to her two grandkids, who she now has.

About the same time that Rachel Ward met Bryan Brown, she was listed as one of the ten most beautiful women in the world. She was a rising star who had been nominated for a Golden Globe and appeared on the cover of UK Vogue.

Richard Chamberlain, her co-star in “The Thorn Birds,” was enamored with the stunning actress. Speaking about their time together on set, he remarked that because of his stunning co-star, all the love scenes were a pleasure to perform. She was in love with someone else, though, even as he was falling for her.

At one point, Chamberlain disclosed that Ward was falling in love with Brown at the time, indicating that she was a romantic, but regrettably not for him. Despite this, Chamberlain claimed that Ward’s enthusiasm was infectious, primarily due to the fact that they portrayed a couple in love.

He went so far as to say that it was easy to accept that Ward was in love with him and no one else. “I assumed I was the one! It was amazing. God, he used to think, ‘She’s really into me.

According to Ward, there was a strong attraction between her and Brown. “His pecs were nice.” It is, after all, quite chemical, don’t you think? She talked about what made her fall in love at first, saying, “It’s pretty basic.” In all honesty, there was no other way to explain her feelings—she simply liked him.

Brown, meanwhile, immediately concluded that Ward was “not a bad sort.” He was attracted to her right away, but it took him a while to express his interest in her. For Ward, however, this was no big thing because, according to Brown, it was a challenge she was eager to take on until he eventually changed.

It was obvious once Ward made up his mind about him: the 35-year-old ladies’ man, who was, to be honest, just a man averse to commitment, was done playing games. It was now time for him to be married, if not to the stunning Rachel Ward.

Despite coming from a shattered home, Brown never thought he would get married, but in nine months, he and Ward were married. Before Ward entered his life, he used to assure his mother that he would never get married.

Ward and Brown were married under different circumstances, despite the fact that many people decide to get married after discovering they have everything they could possibly need and want in a spouse. Brown was filming a project with Paul McCartney in London at the time. When Ward arrived, they got into a heated dispute.

Brown said, “I just thought we may as well get married if we’re going to argue like that.” In Oxfordshire, the home of Ward’s boyhood, they were married that year. After a while, they made Sydney their home, raising Rose, Matilda, and James, their three children.

Selecting an Alternative Course
Ward was the star of numerous songs prior to “The Thorn Birds.” Although her 1983 mini-TV series with Chamberlain was well-received, she eventually gave up acting due to scathing criticism of her performance. Speaking on her personal experience, she acknowledged:

“I took being slaughtered very seriously. After that, I never really regained my confidence.

Ward’s career was impacted by “The Thorn Birds,” but in the end, it helped her find the love of her life. As they waited for a take one day, Brown instructed Ward to raise her hand. When he saw three lines in her hand during his palm reading, he concluded that she would give birth to three children. They had no idea that they would end up having three children together.

Ward kept acting, but not very often. She made the decision to put her family first and relocated to her husband’s home country of Australia.

In response to a question concerning advice on preserving marriage, Brown says that one should “say yes to your wife all the time, and if anything goes wrong, say ‘it’s my fault.’” Men would be happier if they knew that.

Together, the charming couple had three children who all follow in their footsteps: The most well-known roles for their 1987-born daughter Matilda are in the television series “Lessons from the Grave,” “How God Works,” and “Let’s Talk About.” Their daughter Rosie is well-known for “Black Mirror,” “Inside No. 9,” and “Gangs of London,” while their only son Joe is well-known for “Let’s Talk About” and “Rake.”

Brown acted in the family-friendly film “Palm Beach,” directed by Ward, with his daughter Matilda. The family completed the project collectively.

When Matilda, Ward and Brown’s daughter, gave birth to Zan Neathway Gooding, her first boy, in 2019, the couple became grandparents for the first time. Brown remained by her daughter’s side, eager to eventually hold his grandson in his arms.

The actor did not sure how to react to being referred to as “grandfather,” even if he was a devoted grandfather, since it seemed to reveal his age. But whether he liked it or not, he had to admit that he would always be referred to as “grandpa.”

At first, Brown was concerned about becoming a grandfather because a lot of people were assuming he would adore it. When his grandchild arrived, he quickly became attached to the young boy and wanted to spend as much time as possible with him. He had wanted to work through that portion on his own.

Following the birth of her son, Matilda married Scott Gooding, formally becoming his adolescent son’s stepmother. They had originally planned to wed on Brown and Ward’s land in New South Wales, but they had to postpone their wedding due to the fear of a wildfire.

The family was forced to evacuate after the bushfires threatened to destroy their house. Although they would have preferred to wed at home like her parents did, Matilda decided to get married in Sydney to make sure everyone was safe.

Gooding’s kid was very involved in the wedding. With a broad smile on his face, he stood behind his father during the ceremony. According to the renowned chef, the wedding was “possibly the best moment” of his life, therefore it was the perfect unforgettable occasion.

Matilda is a happy mother of two now that he has had her younger siblings taken care of. Gooding posted a cute picture of his son strolling and pulling the pram of his younger siblings.

Similar to how Ward and Brown remain involved in their children’s life, they also make an effort to spend as much time as they can with their grandchildren. The devoted grandparents post glimpses of their grandparenting on Instagram, where they participate in a variety of activities.

Ward is seen gardening with her oldest grandson Zan in one cute video. In their herb garden, they can be seen sprinkling sugar cane mulch. Gooding boasts that his mother-in-law is “nurturing” her grandkids in the same manner that she strives to take care of the surroundings.

Zan spends time with their farm’s horses when he and his grandmother, whom he refers to as “mopie,” aren’t in the garden. They also spent a Christmas at the family farm, where the devoted grandma raised her first grandchild by exposing him to the animals at a young age to help him become accustomed to them.

Anouk, her second grandchild, arrived, and Ward made sure to spend equal time with him. One day, Gooding took pictures of Ward walking with her daughter Matilda and her second grandson, capturing the precious moment.

When their daughter Rosie became engaged to her fiance Andrew Cameron in 2020, their family grew even more. The start of a stunning partnership was marked by their Instagram engagement announcement.

After a span of two years, Rosie and Andrew joyfully relocated to a stunning new residence in New South Wales. Surrounded by a forest, waterfalls, and an abundance of avocado trees, the property has a modest house.

All of their neighbors stopped by to give the gorgeous couple a warm welcome when they arrived in the neighborhood. They declare they intend to stay awhile and claim to have everything they could possibly need in the town.

Cameron is an Australian regenerative farmer who shares Ward’s enthusiasm for the practice. He was a perfect fit for the rest of the Brown family, which made it simple for everyone to get along and share interests.

Ward and Brown have raised their family admirably throughout it all. Despite the fact that their children have grown, they maintain a close relationship and try to spend as much time as possible with their in-laws. The Browns, Goodings, and Camerons were a joyful family celebrating Christmas together in 2021.

Ward claims that at that point in her life, she most likely would have been married to a third husband if she had married an American and moved to Hollywood.

Ward and Brown are enjoying a successful marriage and their children are all grown up and independent. Ward acknowledges that she thinks there’s more to life than her marriage and her family life, even after 39 years of marriage and counting. Says she:

“While my family and marriage are very important to me, they are also not the end all be all.” I want to pursue a profession in acting because I adore it.

Ward has all the connections necessary to maintain her presence in Hollywood, even if she has spent the years living in Australia. As a matter of fact, she has been making the trip to Hollywood on demand for years.

Ward claims that even though it could have been more practical for her to live in America for her career, she most likely would have been married to her third husband by then if she had married an American and moved to Hollywood.

Rather, she is in a committed relationship with the passion of her life and has complete control over her house and family. When she’s not working on a project, the actress frequently shares with her kids what she does with pride.

One day, while painting her house over several days, her daughter Rosie captured her elevating a glass and the ladder she needed to do the job. Instagram users agreed with the happy daughter’s goal of showcasing what an amazing mother Ward was.

Ward shares more on her Instagram than only her abilities and priceless family moments—her sense of humor. She corrected misinformation regarding her activities during the COVID-19 pandemic.

She reported the following facts: (1) she hadn’t visited the US in more than five years; (2) she didn’t have a personal trainer; (3) she had spent the previous ten days at the mid-north coast; and (5) she lacked COVID-19. “Take a swing at another witch,” she concluded her amusing message.

Ward works on her farm while Brown is filming “Darby and Joan” on television. Together with other things, they are the owners of The Good Farm Shop, which offers ready-made, organic meals.

Before She Died, Grandma Asked Me to Clean the Photo on Her Headstone a Year After Her Passing — I Finally Did So and Was Stunned by What I Found

“One year after I’m gone, clean my photo on my headstone. Just you. Promise me,” my grandma whispered her dying wish. A year after burying her, I approached her grave to keep my word, armed with some tools. What I found behind her weathered photo frame left me breathless.

My grandma Patricia, “Patty” to those blessed enough to know her, was my universe. The silence in her house now feels wrong, like a song missing its melody. Sometimes I catch myself reaching for the phone to call her, forgetting for a heartbeat that she’s gone. But even after her passing, Grandma had one final surprise to share… one that would change my life forever.

A woman mourning in a cemetery | Source: Pexels

A woman mourning in a cemetery | Source: Pexels

“Rise and shine, sweet pea!” The memory of her voice still echoes in my mind, warm as summer sunshine. Every morning of my childhood started this way — Grandma Patty would gently brush my hair, humming old songs she claimed her mother taught her.

“My wild child,” she’d laugh, working through the tangles. “Just like I was at your age.”

“Tell me about when you were little, Grandma,” I’d beg, sitting cross-legged on her faded bathroom rug.

A grandmother braiding her granddaughter's hair | Source: Pexels

A grandmother braiding her granddaughter’s hair | Source: Pexels

“Well,” she’d begin, her eyes twinkling in the mirror, “I once put frogs in my teacher’s desk drawer. Can you imagine?”

“You didn’t!”

“Oh, I did! And you know what my mother said when she found out?”

“What?”

“Patricia, even the toughest hearts can be softened, even by the smallest act of kindness.”

“And?”

“I stopped catching those poor frogs again!”

An older lady with a warm smile | Source: Midjourney

An older lady with a warm smile | Source: Midjourney

Those morning rituals shaped me, her wisdom wrapped in stories and gentle touches. One morning, as she braided my hair, I noticed tears in her eyes through the mirror.

“What’s wrong, Grandma?”

She smiled that tender smile of hers, fingers never pausing in their work. “Nothing’s wrong, sweet pea. Sometimes love just spills over, like a cup full of sunshine.”

Our walks to elementary school were adventures disguised as ordinary moments. Grandma transformed every block into a new world.

Silhouette of a little girl walking on the road with her grandmother | Source: Midjourney

Silhouette of a little girl walking on the road with her grandmother | Source: Midjourney

“Quick, Hailey!” she’d whisper, pulling me behind Mrs. Freddie’s maple tree. “The sidewalk pirates are coming!”

I’d giggle, playing along. “What do we do?”

“We say the magic words, of course.” She’d grip my hand tight. “Safety, family, love — the three words that scare away any pirate!”

One rainy morning, I noticed her limping slightly but trying to hide it. “Grandma, your knee is hurting again, isn’t it?”

A shocked little girl | Source: Midjourney

A shocked little girl | Source: Midjourney

She squeezed my hand. “A little rain can’t stop our adventures, my love. Besides,” she winked, though I could see the pain in her eyes, “what’s a little discomfort compared to making memories with my favorite person in the whole wide world?”

Years later, I realized those weren’t just words. She was teaching me about courage, finding magic in mundane moments, and facing fears with family by your side.

Even during my rebellious teenage phase, when I thought I was too cool for family traditions, Grandma knew exactly how to reach me.

A frustrated teenage girl using a laptop | Source: Pexels

A frustrated teenage girl using a laptop | Source: Pexels

“So,” she said one evening when I came home late, makeup smeared from crying over my first breakup. “Would this be a hot chocolate with extra marshmallows kind of night or a secret recipe cookie dough moment?”

“Both!” I managed through tears.

She pulled me into her kitchen, the one place where every problem seemed solvable. “You know what my grandmother told me about heartbreak?”

“What?”

“She said hearts are like cookies! They might crack sometimes, but with the right ingredients and enough warmth, they always come back stronger.”

A smiling older lady holding a cup of flour | Source: Midjourney

A smiling older lady holding a cup of flour | Source: Midjourney

She set down the measuring cup and took my hands in hers, flour dusting both our fingers. “But you know what she didn’t tell me? That watching your granddaughter hurt is like feeling your own heart shatter twice over. I’d take all your pain if I could, sweet pea.”

When I brought my fiancé Ronaldo home at 28, Grandma was waiting in her signature spot, knitting needles clicking like time itself was being woven.

“So,” she said, setting aside a half-finished scarf, “this is the young man who’s made my Hailey’s eyes sparkle.”

“Mrs…” Ronaldo started.

“Just Patricia,” she corrected, studying him over her reading glasses. “Or Patty, if you earn it.”

Portrait of a young man | Source: Midjourney

Portrait of a young man | Source: Midjourney

“Grandma, please be nice,” I pleaded.

“Hailey, dear, would you mind making us some of your grandfather’s special hot chocolate? The recipe I taught you?”

“I know what you’re doing,” I warned.

“Good!” she winked. “Then you know how important this is.”

When I left them alone to make the hot chocolate, I lingered in the kitchen, straining to hear their muffled voices from the living room.

A worried young woman in the kitchen | Source: Midjourney

A worried young woman in the kitchen | Source: Midjourney

A full hour passed before I returned, finding them in what seemed like the tail end of an intense conversation. Ronaldo’s eyes were red-rimmed, and Grandma was holding his hands in hers, the way she always held mine when imparting her most important lessons.

He looked as though he’d been through an emotional marathon, but there was something else in his eyes. Fear. And joy.

“What did you two talk about?” I asked him later that night.

“I made her a promise. A sacred one.”

A young man smiling | Source: Midjourney

A young man smiling | Source: Midjourney

I understood what that conversation must have been like. Grandma was probably making sure the man I was bound to marry understood the depth of that commitment. She wasn’t just being a protective grandmother; she was passing on her legacy of fierce, intentional love.

Then one day, her diagnosis came like a thunderclap. Aggressive pancreatic cancer. Weeks, maybe months.

I spent every moment I could at the hospital, watching machines track her heartbeat like Morse code signals to heaven. She kept her humor, even then.

An older lady lying on a hospital bed | Source: Midjourney

An older lady lying on a hospital bed | Source: Midjourney

“Look at all this attention, sweet pea. If I’d known hospital food was this good, I’d have gotten sick years ago!”

“Stop it, Grandma,” I whispered, arranging her pillows. “You’re going to beat this.”

“Sweetie, some battles aren’t meant to be won. They’re meant to be understood. And accepted.”

One evening, as sunset painted her hospital room in gold, she gripped my hand with surprising strength.

“I need you to promise me something, love. Will you?” she whispered.

“Anything.”

A heartbroken young woman in a hospital ward | Source: Midjourney

A heartbroken young woman in a hospital ward | Source: Midjourney

“One year after I’m gone, clean my photo on the headstone. Just you. Promise me.”

“Grandma, please don’t talk like that. You’ll be around longer. I’ll not let anything happen to—”

“Promise me, sweet pea. One last adventure together.”

I nodded through tears. “I promise.”

She smiled, touching my cheek. “My brave girl. Remember, real love never ends. Even after death. It just changes shape, like light through a prism.”

She slipped away that very night, taking the colors of my world with her.

A grieving woman in a hospital ward | Source: Midjourney

A grieving woman in a hospital ward | Source: Midjourney

I visited her grave every Sunday, rain or sunshine. Sometimes I brought flowers. Sometimes just stories. The weight of her absence felt heavier than the bouquets I carried.

“Grandma, Ronaldo and I set a date,” I told her gravestone one spring morning. “A garden wedding, like you always said would suit me. I’ll wear your pearl earrings if Mom agrees.”

“You know, last night, I’d woken up at 3 a.m., the exact time you used to bake when you couldn’t sleep. For a moment, I swore I could smell cinnamon and vanilla wafting through my apartment. I stumbled to the kitchen, half-expecting to find you there, humming and measuring ingredients by memory. But—”

A grieving woman holding a bouquet of flowers in a cemetery | Source: Freepik

A grieving woman holding a bouquet of flowers in a cemetery | Source: Freepik

“Other times, I’d sit silently, watching cardinals flit between trees, remembering how you claimed they carried messages from heaven, Grandma.

“Some days, the grief would ambush me in the most ordinary moments. Like reaching for your cookie recipe and recognizing your handwriting. Or finding one of your bobby pins behind the bathroom radiator. I’d hold it like a precious artifact from a lost civilization.

“I miss you, Grandma. I miss you so much,” I confessed, my eye fixed on her tomb. “The house still smells like your perfume. I can’t bring myself to wash your favorite sweater. Is that crazy?”

A young woman mourning before a loved one's grave | Source: Freepik

A young woman mourning before a loved one’s grave | Source: Freepik

“Yesterday, I put it on and sat in your chair, trying to feel close to you. I keep expecting to hear your key in the door, or your laugh from the garden. Mom says time helps, but every morning I wake up and have to remember all over again that you’re gone.”

A cardinal landed nearby, its red feathers bright against the gray headstone. I could almost hear Grandma’s voice: “Crazy is just another word for loving deeply, sweet pea.”

A year later, I stood before her grave, cleaning supplies in hand. It was time to fulfill my promise.

An older woman's grave | Source: Midjourney

An older woman’s grave | Source: Midjourney

Armed with a screwdriver, I unscrewed the weathered brass photo frame. When I removed it, I was shaken to my core.

“Oh my God! This… this can’t be!” I gasped, leaning closer.

Behind the photo lay a note, written in Grandma’s distinctive cursive:

“My dearest sweet pea. One last treasure hunt together. Remember all those times we searched for magic in ordinary places? Here’s where you’ll discover our biggest secret. Find the hiding spot in the woods at these coordinates…”

A startled woman holding a piece of paper in a cemetery | Source: Midjourney

A startled woman holding a piece of paper in a cemetery | Source: Midjourney

Beneath the note was a string of numbers and a tiny heart drawn in the corner, just like she used to sketch on all my lunch napkins.

My hands trembled as I entered the numbers into Google Maps. The location pointed to a spot in the woods nearby, where she used to take me to collect autumn leaves for her pressed flower albums.

I carefully wiped her photo, my fingers lingering on her familiar smile, before cleaning the glass and securing it back in place. The drive to the woods felt both eternal and too quick, my heart keeping time with the rhythm of the windshield wipers in the light drizzle.

A young woman driving a car | Source: Unsplash

A young woman driving a car | Source: Unsplash

At the woods entrance, I pulled out her note one last time. There, at the bottom, in writing so small I almost missed it like she was whispering one last secret, were the words:

“Look for the survey post with the crooked cap, sweet pea. The one where we used to leave notes for the fairies.”

I remembered it instantly, a waist-high metal post we’d discovered on one of our “magical expeditions” when I was seven. She’d convinced me it was a fairy post office.

A rusty metal post in the woods | Source: Midjourney

A rusty metal post in the woods | Source: Midjourney

I grabbed a small spade from my car and carefully dug the soil around the post. The metallic clank that followed sent my heart racing.

There, nestled in the dark earth like a buried star, lay a small copper box, its surface turned turquoise with age.

I lifted it as gently as if I were holding one of Grandma’s teacups, and when the lid creaked open, her familiar lavender scent wafted up with the letter inside.

An old copper box dug out from the soil | Source: Midjourney

An old copper box dug out from the soil | Source: Midjourney

The paper trembled in my hands as I unfolded it, her handwriting dancing across the page like a final embrace.

“My darlings,

Some truths take time to ripen, like the best fruit in the garden. Elizabeth, my precious daughter, I chose you when you were just six months old. Your tiny fingers wrapped around mine that first day at the orphanage, and in that moment, my heart grew wings. And through you, I got to choose Hailey too.

Sweet pea, I’ve carried this secret like a stone in my heart, afraid that the truth might dim the light in your eyes when you looked at me. But love isn’t in our blood… it’s in the thousand little moments we chose each other. It’s in every story, every cookie baked at midnight, every braided hair, and wiped tear.

Blood makes relatives, but choice makes family. And I chose you both, every single day of my life. If there’s any forgiveness needed, let it be for my fear of losing your love. But know this: you were never just my daughter and granddaughter. You were my heart, beating outside my chest.

All my love, always,

Grandma Patty

P.S. Sweet pea, remember what I told you about real love? It never ends… it just changes shape.”

A stunned woman holding a letter | Source: Midjourney

A stunned woman holding a letter | Source: Midjourney

Mom was in her studio when I arrived home, paintbrush frozen mid-stroke. She read Grandma’s letter twice, tears making watercolor rivers down her cheeks.

“I found my original birth certificate when I was 23,” she confessed. “In the attic, while helping your grandma organize old papers.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

Mom smiled, touching Grandma’s signature. “Because I watched her love you, Hailey. I saw how she poured every drop of herself into being your grandmother. How could biology compete with that kind of choice?”

A teary-eyed senior woman | Source: Midjourney

A teary-eyed senior woman | Source: Midjourney

I gently brushed the sapphire ring from the box, one Grandma had left me along with her final letter. Outside, a cardinal landed on the windowsill, bright as a flame against the evening sky.

“She chose us,” I whispered.

Mom nodded. “Every single day.”

Now, years later, I still catch glimpses of Grandma everywhere. In the way I fold towels into perfect thirds, just as she taught me. In how I unconsciously hum her favorite songs while gardening. And in the little phrases I say to my children.

Portrait of a smiling older lady | Source: Midjourney

Portrait of a smiling older lady | Source: Midjourney

Sometimes, when I’m baking late at night, I feel her presence so strongly I have to turn around, half-expecting to see her sitting at the kitchen table, reading glasses perched on her nose, completing her crossword puzzle.

The empty chair still catches me off guard, but now it carries a different kind of ache — not just loss, but gratitude. Gratitude for every moment, every lesson, and every story she shared.

Because Grandma Patty didn’t just teach me about family… she showed me how to build one, how to choose one, and how to love one deeply enough that it transcends everything, even death itself.

An empty armchair in a room | Source: Midjourney

An empty armchair in a room | Source: Midjourney

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.

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