We lost Dad a year ago yesterday :-(

I miss him every day. This was the eulogy I read at his funeral, with a few names removed.

Dad always said, “You’re only here for a look around.” In his 80 years, he had a good look around. As a young man, he worked and travelled all over Australia, in Papua New Guinea, parts of Asia and even briefly made it to the Middle East when he and Uncle --- ran away to sea as adventurous teenagers. (I think my Uncle ---, who was even younger, still wishes he’d gone, too.)

When Dad married Mum, he settled down and became a homebody and a provider. Raising four children, and putting them through Catholic school and university, he did countless hours of overtime at the coal loader, where he had some great mates. In hindsight, he worked too hard and denied himself too much. But the once-wild youth had become a sensible man and rarely wavered.

Besides Mum, Dad’s favourite thing in the world was golf. As a kid, I remember him either winning or coming close in many comps. Later in life, during his long, LONG battle with the cancers that would eventually claim him, he no longer had the stamina to play a full round. However, he made up for it by reading every golf manual and watching every televised tournament under the sun.

Another thing Dad genuinely enjoyed was driving. He’d joke that he was our family taxi, and he was happy to transport anyone anywhere. He must have done a million drives to ballet schools, train stations and other local landmarks. Even on his bad days, health-wise, he’d say to Mum, completely serious, “Do you want to go for a run to ---?” Or, “We should take a trip up the Valley.”

The son of a chef, Dad loved healthy food, which surely helped him make it to 80 despite serious illnesses and their harsh medical treatments. He couldn’t get enough vegetables and fruit, and regularly extolled the virtues of “meat and three veg”. He liked strong tastes such as hot chilli and hot mustard, smoked fish and liquorice. He liked expensive stout beer and cheap red wine.

Dad enjoyed pottering in the garden right up until mere weeks before his passing, and was good at “bushman’s repairs” like turning a tree branch into a new handle for a broken shovel. In a different universe, he was a fine greenkeeper at a golf club. We teased him about having undiagnosed OCD, but that annoying perfectionism would have resulted in a flawlessly manicured 18 holes.

Remember Dad when you play or spectate on golf. Remember him when you go for a nice drive in the country. Remember him when you eat a hearty home-cooked meal – especially one paired with a shiraz. Remember him when you’re spending quiet time in the garden. Remember him when you put your feet up to read a thick paperback adventure novel or thriller (he read hundreds).

Remember Dad when you listen to Aussie country & western music like Slim Dusty and Graeme Connors, or classic opera (Madame Butterfly was his absolute favourite). Remember him when you watch modern action films, especially the John Wick series. He’d often ask me of movies or TV shows, “Have I seen this?” But with the John Wick flicks, he could quote you the dialogue.

You can even remember Dad when you’re on YouTube on your computer. He could – and did – happily spend hours watching wristwatches repaired, leather shoes handmade, cars restored or anything super skilful like that. It was the same for Foxtel coverage of horse racing, pub games like poker, snooker and darts, and boxing matches (he was a huge fan of Mexican boxer Canelo Alvarez).

One of my buddies used to find it amusing when he came over and saw Dad watching TV, listening to the radio and reading the paper at the same time. The fact is, he was highly self-educated about politics, economics and world affairs. It was one of many things people wouldn’t guess about a man who enjoyed nothing more than being at home and talking to Mum.

Of course, we all wish he was doing that now. Dad’s death has left a huge hole in our lives. However, there’ll always be pleasant reminders of him, some of which I’ve listed. And you have your own memories to cherish. Those wishing to raise a glass, and perhaps share a story, please join us at the --- Golf Club for snacks’n’drinks at 11.30am. It’s what he would have wanted.