Spending the last days of my fathers life, sitting beside him listening to his breathe rhythmically entering and escaping his body, I reflect on our life as a family and the memories we have made. Memories of watching and supporting him as he ran ultra marathons, of him being a kind and patient man, of being a father who was always there for us, a handy man who taught me how to be independent and self sufficient and a hard working man who provided us with everything we needed.

But for me, one of the biggest memories I have, one that has shaped and inspired my love for seeing and experiencing as much as possible with my own children, is travelling with him. School holidays meant we would take off on road and camping trips throughout Australia and New Zealand, spending time together as a family and forming tight bonds, ones that have never been broken and only grew stronger as we got older.

We traveled cheaply, driving and camping in tents, most of the time I shared with my sister while Mum and Dad had their own tent. I cannot remember ever staying in a hotel let alone a resort, but it didn’t matter to us, we were lucky to travel while the majority of my friends couldn’t and it’s when memories where made.

Like the time that we left Lightening ridge as the flood waters rose so, we slowly followed a convoy of cars out of town, hoping to get through without being bogged or swept away and the time that we had to turn around from our hike to the walls of Jerusalem because of sleet, in the middle of summer. I also remember the time that Dad couldn’t see as his glasses struggled to adjust to the dark while driving a campervan through the tunnel into Milford sound and how during another adventure at Byron Bay, we each held onto a pole to stop our tent from blowing away during a mini cyclone. While the memory of holding each other’s hands as we slowly stepped in the dark through an unused train tunnel somewhere up the Blue mountains is still spoken of today, I will always remember Dad gaining pleasure in the little things while travelling, watching the trawlers coming into dock, sitting around a campfire, taking a stroll along a beach or bush track and him constantly tinkering with our gear to somehow make it more efficient.

So Dad, I want to thankyou, for the love you gave us, the adventures you took us on, the memories we made, the bonds we forged, the skills you taught me, the attitude to never take anything for granted and the inspiration to travel.

Love you

Miss you

Kerrie.