Thursday, March 14, 2024
It was certainly a shock to hear of Peter’s passing yesterday and I so wish I could be there to celebrate his life, but life often puts impediments in our way.
Peter walked into my life 45 years ago. As many country kids know, many hours are spent on the bus to and from school. I was the first passenger each day, so my seat of choice was not the back seat…too obvious…mine was the second last seat on the passenger side (no sun on the way home). Peter had moved to the area and was only on the bus for the last/first half hour each way. For some reason, no one thought to ask if they could sit with me but Peter, as usual, broke the mould and asked. I had no objections and our friendship started. We went to the same school, but he was a year behind me. I went away to boarding school briefly and dropped out of school (ironically, I’m still there as a teacher of 40 years). After restarting at his Mum’s school the year later, we were in the same class and our friendship grew.
As teenagers, we spent many nights out on the prowl together. Even though I had my license before him the fact that he lived 8 km out of town and I lived 40km, meant many Saturday mornings were spent with Peter’s parents, Lloyd and Yvonne, Peter, Michelle, and I around the breakfast table.
Three passions we had were partying, music, and golf. Every holiday we spent travelling as far as we could playing different courses around the district and talking pure rubbish. Being blessed with living in the 1980s on the East Coast meant we had touring bands all summer, every summer. Sweat, beer, and girls were the weekend norm and Pete outdid me in them all….Everyone loved their Yogi Bear.
I was proud to have Pete by my side when I married Norma, and he was a great best man.
Through our friendship our parents became close, and Yvonne and my Mum are still great friends, but time and geography drew us apart yet through our parents we kept in touch.
I was so happy that Peter had found the love of his life in Sherene and together they had shared their love for their families. I know he was a contented man.
It seems so surreal that this moment has come. I will miss you greatly and trust that you are playing the 9 holes of Royal Krambach with Lloyd and my dad Bill.
Forever smiling.
Phill
