Selectively Juggling

I just want to share an image of my father, Anthony (of Tony) he passed away almost 3 years ago, and I have written quite a lot about him, but have always struggled to share photos and images of him. The final image I had of him, was holding his head in my hands as he passed. It took me a hell of a lot of work to replace that last distressing (yet loving) image, with that of something more joyful, such as a memory of when he was much younger and youthful. He was a sarcastic, intelligent larrikin, fiercely loyal to his family (10 kids). He would give you the last shirt off his back, much to his detriment at times. I have millions of amazing memories, and sadly so few photos. So most of his photos are from when he was older, and at the end of his life.

In another lifetime, perhaps he would have been a gypsy, a traveller, forever chasing the sun and the dream of striking it big in the gem fields in Queensland. He had fossicking or prospecting in his veins, pardon the pun. He was very socially minded, political and an advocate for disability rights. He was like a bull at a gate and would fight tooth and nail to get his point across, especially if it was about the rights of the less fortunate. He was a volunteer, helping to drive the elderly in his community. Even in his last months, when he could barely walk, he still pushed himself to drive the elderly around. He challenged Government ministers, especially about disability rights and funding. He had a purpose and left a gaping legacy.

He never knew what it was to drive a brand new car, have savings in the bank or the freedom of any financial security. But what he did have was integrity, spirit, passion, drive and compassion. He would drive around on council clean up days and collect all the broken old bikes that were strewn across the verve, waiting for pick-up and delivery to the landfill. Instead, he would collect them, repurpose and rebuild them, somehow magically creating new bikes in the process. These bikes (he made 100’s) were sent off to India for kids who needed them. Like all his charitable works, he did them quietly and without noise. He would always tell me that “it’s not really generosity of spirit, true compassion or charity if you make a song and dance about it”.

He saw his beautiful daughter contract measles at age 18-months, develop encephalitis, and profound physical and intellectual disabilities (my sister). If that wasn’t hard enough they were forced to institutionalised her at age 4, only 2-weeks before my birth. During this time, his own mother passed away.

He stayed loyal and supportive to a son with explosive mental illness and heroin addiction. Doing all he could to keep him out of prison. His lowest point in life was when he had to help the police search for his 9-year-old son, who had drowned while on a family picnic (my brother- I was 3 when it happened) He found the body.

In light of all the tragedy and loss (and there is so much more) he stayed positive, grounded, yet joyful. He was a glass-half-full man, who always saw the light. He had his moments, his vices as we all do. He wasn’t infallible, no one is. What he was, was solid, he was the keel that kept my family even, balanced and safe. We needed an even keel, especially given the tumultuous waves my family rode out. He was the glue that helped to connect us all, which was quite an incredible feat, given the vast range of personalities and lived experiences. I am very different from almost all of my siblings, always have been.

He will forever be one of my tribe, my soul family. I am forever grateful that I had such an innovative, creative, resourceful, spirited and emotionally intact father. Joker extraordinaire – mindfully aware. He never knew much privilege, but I certainly did … the privilege of calling him, dad. I am telling you, that no one saw me as my father did, he’d call my bullshit, he’d help ground me, like the strong political, social and moral compass he was. Am I not blessed? Here’s to you Dad … Wherever you are I hope you are keeping them honest, and kicking up your heels in fun. You deserve it … he buried his beloved daughter Col only 3 months before he passed, and his eldest son 6 months before he passed. I love you Dad … now and forever.

You left an indelible mark upon all those who were blessed by your love and compassion.