Eulogy
It has long bothered me that, many great people are defined principally by the latter years of their lives rather than the complete picture. In Drew’s case, it further distressed me that his young children may not have a clear memory of their early years with their father. A life is the sum of its parts regardless of the order that it unfolded.
In dealing with my own acute pain over Drew’s passing, I found that the only remedy was to revisit the beautiful moments. So here it goes:
Nerylie referred to Drew as “dad’s shadow” as it seemed that there was nothing that I could do that he didn’t want to emulate whether it be making it, repairing it or playing it. When he was very young, he was watching me work on a lawn mower. “Hold this Drew” I said “Will it hurt”, “No”. I wasn’t sure whether the magneto was producing a current. Drew indignantly confirmed that it was. He learned well and fast and I was so proud as I watched him working on his Triumph Spitfire so that it was ready to drive when he turned 17. Sadly, Nicola has another chapter to add to that story. I was a little less proud when he dented our new Suzuki Vitara testing it on the gravel at Fred Jacoby Park and then tried to knock the dent out with a hammer. Despite my betrayal of trust through the lawnmower incident, when Drew badly injured his finger as a child, I was the only one he would allow to apply the dressing. What a privilege.
Drew and I had a special connection when it came to the round-ball game, a connection which accommodated the achievement of one of my ambitions: to play in a senior’s team with one of my children. Achieved when I was 45 and Drew 19. Our roles differed greatly as I was supposed to score goals whilst he had to stop them at the other end. As the coach of Drew’s under 12’s team, I learned not to be concerned if the opposition got a break on our defence as Drew’s speed and intent would invariably save the day, sometimes, maybe a little too vigorously.
The cricket connection was strange. Neither of us ever played in a team yet somehow a tradition eventuated whereby we would buy a brand new 6 stitcher every Christmas and we would promptly head to the cricket nets and try and hurt each other. Shoulder injuries to both of us put paid to this practice in the end although a recent attempt to revive the tradition with his children saw me definitely come off second best.
When Drew first returned to live with us, I was pleased to be able to say to people that it wasn’t a difficult cohabitation and that there were almost no disagreements. I do recall one event however. Those close to me know that I have a thing about drinks being close to computers. On this occasion, I saw a glass get knocked which subsequently teetered over a laptop. The offending arm belonged to one of Drew’s children and I might have over-reacted just a little. Drew likewise reacted in defence of his little girl. You see there was nothing more important to Drew than his children. The events of recent years might cast doubt on this statement but I will forever be his advocate in this regard. Whilst his home and the ‘white picket fence’ were intact, I know of no better father. In this respect, he did things quite differently to me with an approach more reminiscent of my own parents. A bit old school. Drew’s love of family extended to include his wider family, in particular, Fraser and Georgia. Right up to his final years, Drew would always be the protector if protection was needed. I’m not sure that it was always appreciated by his baby sister as Justine progressed through her twenties. Sadly, as the ideal home that he so treasured evolved, it seems he couldn’t find his place in an alternative. Enough on that! As they say, ‘the proof of the pudding is in the eating’. Drew lives on in four amazing human beings who I am so proud to call my grandchildren and so privileged to be included in their lives.
Drew had an interest in cooking for as long as we could remember starting with his Chicken Tonight prepared on his rostered cooking night. I asked Drew recently what work would be his ideal and he said, “to manage a coffee shop”. Last year, Drew got the opportunity in Northam with the added bonus of working with Abbey, his oldest daughter. They also shared their studies which provided Abbey with the beautiful memory of witnessing her father being told off in class for being on his phone.
As a child, Drew always seemed mature beyond his years. When Drew was a mere 15, I was so privileged and proud to work with him as he led the bass section of the Eastern Hills Chamber Orchestra Choir. A mix of his peers and adults, including teachers, who would rely on him to guide them through tricky Mozart and Vivaldi passages. He was popular. Drew’s photo in his graduation yearbook came with the caption “Student with the biggest fan club”. He seemed to have it all.
Three years ago, Nerylie and I escaped to Bali as we often do. I was compelled to write a song about my relationship with Drew. Writing helps me put things into perspective. One verse goes like this:
“Coin tossed, choice made
Heads or tails in a spin
Pen’s in motion, one story fades
This game of life to win”
(thanks Stewart Pryer for that phrase)
The way I see it, Drew didn’t know how to play the cards that he was dealt and he lost the game. You may think that rather negative but that depends on whether you think winning is the end point or rather the game itself. Drew’s legacy is measured by the love expressed here today and in the beautiful memories that will persist until memory itself exists no more.
Sadly, my interest in golf is not shared by Nerylie and she suggests that “I tell someone who cares” whenever I might recall the round. Of course, I always do as I’m told, hence the tradition of ringing Drew every Wednesday afternoon as I drove home. Should you ever receive a call from me at this time, pause for a moment before you answer the call and remember the beauty that was our friend, brother, father and Son.
Today is about Drew but it is followed by tomorrow and the rest of our respective lives. And so, to Drew’s friends, our friends and family, but mostly his beautiful children:
May the Lord protect and defend you
May he always shield you from shame
May you come to be, in Israel a shining name
May you be like Ruth and like Esther
May you be deserving of praise
Strengthen them oh Lord and keep them from the stranger’s way
May God bless you and grant you long lives
May God make you good husbands and wives
May the Lord protect and defend you
May the Lord preserve you from pain
Favour them oh Lord, with happiness and peace
Oh hear our Sabbath prayer
