MEMORIES OF YOU...

Two years have rolled by so quickly, and there is not a day that I don’t think about you.

I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve day ‘Nev would have loved that…’

When Charlie’s been doing some work on the farm, whether it’s building garden beds for me, or renovating the cattle yards, or fixing the water pump, or doing some fencing… whatever.  I know Nev would have been right in there with it, if he was well enough to do so.

The only time I’ve ever seen my husband lose his composure, was at Nev’s funeral.  He actually cried.  My knight in shining armour, there to protect me through everything; was human after all.  And it took Nev’s passing to show me.

I think at that point, I realised just how much Charlie loved my father.

However, in saying that; everyone loved Nev.

He was a simple bloke that wanted for nothing.  He had everything he needed.  He had a loving wife and a feral child (me) that he had seen grow into what I would like to think; a decent human being.  He saw her marry and start a life of her own with a good man, which made him happy.

He loved his son-in-law.  He loved spending time with him and just doing boy stuff together, like building my bbq, burning tree stumps and reeds on the farm, hanging out at Bunning’s and just doing boy stuff in general.

When he became sick, that’s the thing he said he would miss the most.  He was angry that he was being robbed of time with Charlie, and wished he had spent more with him.

He was thankful for everything he had, and never complained about what he didn’t have.  Sure, he wasn’t a millionaire; he was just an ordinary, middle class bloke.  He wanted for nothing though.   He wasn’t a materialistic person; that stuff didn’t interest him.  No; he was more into quality time with his family and friends.

When Mum decided to sell Stone Manor, the biggest obstacle we faced was Dad’s garage.  His ‘man cave’.  What are we going to do with all of this stuff?

Nev had said to Charlie ‘this stuff will all be yours one day, son’, which Charlie struggled with for a long time.  He felt guilty taking it anything, until Iris pointed out that it was what Nev wanted.

So Charlie took some things, and we asked Mark (Dad’s unofficial son) to come and help himself as well.  Mark’s love for Nev was evident when he took it upon himself to sort out the garage and clean it out for Mum.  He took heaps and heaps of stuff away himself, which I know Nev would have loved.

He would have loved to see his stuff go to people that would use and appreciate it as much as he did.

Charlie makes me laugh.  As I walk into our shed at home, I see that it’s nearly set up the same as Nev’s was.  This is pure coincidence, but I smile as I see some familiar things.  Charlie fusses over these items like they’re precious treasures.  Socket sets (apparently, you can never have too many), drawer sets for screws and nails, a lathe, and various other tools that I don’t know the name of, let along what they’re used for.  He has really made an effort to look after these things, because he appreciates where they’ve come from.

He always saying ‘this is Nev’s’ when he uses something, like Dad’s car jack (which he used to fix the tyre on the buggy).   He says it proudly, really, like he wants us to know that he’s using Nev’s stuff and appreciates it.  Bless.

Dad would be happy.

I think those are the things that I miss the most.  The little, constant reminders of him.   You find your thoughts drifting away, and thinking ‘Dad would have loved this…  Dad would have been so proud…’

He was terribly proud of Charlie.  Would bring his friends up here to the farm, drag them all over it to show them all the things Charlie had done.  Hello!  You have a daughter too, you know!!  *laughs *

The last time Dad came here, was two months before he passed.  Possibly the last time he was ‘well’, if that makes sense. 

He became ill not long after we finished the renovations, and he hadn’t seen them.  I kept asking him to come up for a drive and have a look at it, because I seriously thought he would pass before he got to see it.

The day he came up, Charlie walked with Dad, guiding his walking frame around the house paddock to show him all of the gardens and things he’d done and built since his last visit.  He drove him around the property to show him other things, including the cattle yards.  I showed him around the house and he couldn’t believe all of the changes.   Of course that was nothing compared to spending time with Charlie.

He loved Charlie.

It was a great day, and a day I will never forget.

Now, as I sit on the verandah at night enjoying a nicely chilled bevvie, I look over at the garden we have built for Nev.  I look at the two towers Charlie built in the middle, that have roses climbing and spilling out of them, looking spectacular.  The rest of the large garden has some forty-five roses in it, and they’re all in bloom.  There is a bench seat that Charlie built sitting next to it, so we can spend time down there, enjoying the fragrance and the memories. 

In the middle, is a plaque that simply shares that Nev is finally sleeping peacefully, for that’s where we scattered his ashes. 

Underneath the plaque, is a box filled with letters, photos, rocky road, freddo frogs and memories.  All from his family and friends.  A time capsule of memories that will never be opened.  They’re for him to enjoy.

It's funny how time moves on.  It stops for no man, as they say.  When you lose someone precious, you do feel as if part of your world has ended, but somehow, that world pulls you back, and you move on.  

And it's true; time does dull the pain.  In ever goes away though, and the sadness is always there.  However, you try to replace it with fond memories of happier times.  Celebrate the joy of life, and not the sadness of loss.

There is a story that tells of people experiencing three deaths.  The first death, is when your body fails, and your life ends.  The second death, is when people stop visiting your resting place.  And the third death, is when people stop saying your name.

We will never stop saying your name, Nev, because we could never forget someone as wonderful as you. 

Rest in peace, my friend.

You are sorely missed, and truly loved.