Simon’s Gone

My friend Simon died.

He was fifty.

His kids and my kid grew together. In the Aussie bush.


Jeez we had some arguments.

A beer drinkin’ Aussie Shearer with a leftie dyke…yeah, we had some doozies.

But we laughed too. More than anything.

 And chopped wood, and fished and camped and swam all with the kids, and harvested spuds and toasted xmas and  threw everything on the barbie and listened to bands and crikey did we have some bonfires and did we have some beers and remember when we….

You were a great dad Simon.

And a good Santa on the fire truck…that year there was no one else

 And you came when I needed your help.

 Oh but what can I say now my mate

You never bloody listened

I though you blokes were meant to grow out of this crap

But you had a few beers

picked a fight with that man

who used more than fists.

You lost

We all have lost…

Your kids most of all.

Oh Simon for all of it

though I only told you once cause it embarrassed you too much

 I gotta say it just one more time

I loved ya mate.


7 thoughts on “Simon’s Gone

  1. Leesa! Damn. I’m sorry you lost Simon. Good friends are hard to come by (Bette Midler was right). And I’m a leftie LGBT activist whose best friend is a gay former priest, so yeah, I know what that juxtaposition is like.

    In the end, friends love each other. No matter where the years take you, the tears will follow, and the fond memories. I’m sorry, Leesa. This is perhaps the best obit I’ve ever read, the one that should have gone in the paper, really, if Simon is half the man you make him out to be.

    Love, Amy

  2. OMG if he knew he’d kill me. Simon was not fifty he was only thirty-nine.. It is only fair I correct such a lie! Shearers always look older …heeheehee (He’ll be haunting me soon). (with humour, affection and saddness…all intermigled.

  3. Grief is so painful.

    I;d rather feel physical pain than grief.

    It cuts you right in half until you could vomit.

    I’m so sorry for your loss. I feel the weight of it in your post.

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