Growing up I had always been close to my Dad and shared a special bond with him. He loved fishing, and from a young age I loved going out on his punt  and he would teach me all his fishing tricks. I could never sleep on a car journey, so when we were driving on family holidays we would chat all the way, while everyone else slept around us. He ran an orchid nursery and I loved being able to work with him on the weekends & school holidays.

When I got married and moved away from home, we developed an even stronger bond; He was the first person I would call when I had a problem, needed some advice or a shoulder to cry on. He was an amazing Grandpa to my 3 kids. My parents retired to a property in Bowral, and he loved teaching the kids about his cattle, riding horses, feeding the chooks and gardening. The perfect weekend getaway for city kids.

On August 8th, 2011 I received a phone call that shook me to the core, my Dad was being rushed to the hospital.

5 minutes later we received another call to say that he had passed away from a massive heart attack….he was only 68… I believed my Dad would be around forever, that he as a doting granddad would watch my kids grow up… and in a heartbeat that was all taken away from me. 

My brother, sister and I took on the responsibility of arranging his funeral, as my mum was in total shock. I offered to put together a slideshow of family photos for his service. I cried as I was sifting through all of those memories, There were Santa photos taken religiously every year, the summer holidays at our favourite place with photos of us all on the jetty proudly holding the fish we had caught, watersking and swimming in the lake, and our birthday parties….

The only photo of my Dad and I was the photo below, taken on my wedding day… 

I will forever wish that could have been different...