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.
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.