We lost my Brother in Law this week, suddenly and cruelly. He has left behind my sister Lisa, together 17 years; and his daughter Maggie and son Sam. I dedicate this to him; Our Boo Boo.
You had kind eyes when you walked through our door.
Kind and blue.
My first memory of you.
She walked behind you with a smile on her face that never really left her.
A summer cotton dress, in a hue that matched your eyes.
I have known that smile since I can remember, she lived for complete excitement and joy always, so when she smiled we knew she was in the midst of it all.
Connected already. Fingers entwined as she led you up the driveway.
Floating on a high of new love and young adoration.
The car had pulled up and we raced around nervously trying to get a peek of you through the upstairs curtains.
She was ours and we loved her deeply so it was a big thing for mum and dad to give you hugs and warm handshakes and yank you into our door, our hearts and our family.
With no escape and no choice in it at all.
She was ours and now you were too.
All it took was the bag of fresh prawns you held out to mum and a beer with dad on the back veranda.
All it took was to tell me ‘nice dress’ and to call Trish the thing she hated most, Patty – you were the only one who could call her that and it has since always stuck, like you have to us.
All it took was a promise of friendship to our brother.
And you were ours.
You loved her and we loved you for it.
Always a sparkle in your eye, a guitar ready to strum and a joke ready to go.
You made friends wherever you went easily and you always lit up a room with your stories.
Life tumbled you around for sure. But she always jumped on your back and held on tight to tumble through it all with you.
Together. Fingers and now lives entwined.
The years went on and we all grew closer, through Christmases and pool swims, births of your beautiful daughter and then son. Birthdays and holidays to our second home, Yamba. Sitting around the outdoor table, always with some fresh prawns to be had and always your guitar and songs drifting through the house.
‘Hey Em’, followed quickly by a joke. A lame one, but we could not help but smile. You told me my car was called Elvis, because it had so many hits. The joy you brought us, even from a lame joke, we now ache for.
What do we do without you now Boozy? The house is so quiet and still.
We comfort ourselves by thinking of those jokes and the music and those blue eyes I guess, and being grateful of the memories we now clutch onto, like gold.
As Lisa and Maggie and Sam tumble around in it all and try to find their way, we will all – her sisters, her mother, family and friends near and far, clutch on to them and hold on tight to tumble through it all with them. And sometimes someone will even pick up your guitar, music filling the house again ..and for but a moment we will forget and think that it is you.
With a strum and lame joke to tell and those kind eyes; kind and blue.