I went to a funeral yesterday.

The first funeral I ever went to was for a guy I went to school with. It was 1978, the year after we left school. I was down the back yard with a bike frame tied to the swings, spray painting it from a can. My Mum burst out the back door in tears. “Randall’s been killed” was about all she could get out. I was numb and to be honest, I didn’t really know how to react. He was only 17 years old and his life was over. Man, 17 years old, that’s just getting started. He was out driving on his brand new P plates when they ran out of petrol. While walking to get fuel he was run over and killed by an idiot who was running from the cops.

His life was taken away through no fault of his own by a man with a Tic-Tac sized cock who tried to make up for his lack of penis by hooning around the streets in a hot car pretending to be Peter Brock.

I remember going to the funeral with a couple of mates. None of us had dealt with this before. It really cut me up to see his Mum and Dad trying to be brave. This is just a parent’s worst nightmare. Having to bury one of your kids.

The one I went to yesterday was the same. A young man, just 25 years old, with the whole world at his feet. It was probably the saddest funeral I’ve been to and I’ve been to a few. It was sadder than burying my Dad. As young as Dad was, at least Dad got a decent turn. This one had the same feeling as the first one. It is just horrible to watch a Mum and Dad bury their child.

The respect this young man and his family have in their community was shown by the absolutely enormous crowd that turned up. Half the crowd had to stand outside. Speaker after speaker talked of this lads’ genuine love of life, friends, music, sport and his studies. This kid packed more into his short time here than most people do in 60 years. It was a moving experience. Sad because of a life cut short and joyous because of a life spent well.

They told of a boy who was passionate about sport and music, both as a participant and a spectator. They told of a boy who went from being an average student to doing a double degree in Law and Commerce. All the while keeping up his relationships with his friends and his passion for sport and music. They told of a boy who had a genuine passion for life. They told of a boy smart enough to pay his board in alcohol so he could get frequent flyer points on it!

His life was taken away through no fault of his own by a man with a Tic-Tac sized cock who tried to make up for his lack of penis by hooning around the streets in a hot car pretending to be Peter Brock.

Rest in peace Tim.

I don’t ever want to go to one of those again.