I am lucky enough to add the words of Matt's sister Nicole, who so impressed me with her strength and courage both on the day of the funeral and in the preceding few weeks. I had originally thought I might put both eulogies on the same page, but decided these words needed a page of their own.
Hello everyone.
I would like to start on behalf of myself and Tess in thanking everyone who is here today, it is so heart-warming for us to see so many people that love and care for Matt.
I asked Tess recently whether she would like me to thank anyone on her behalf for their help over these last few years. And she replied that there were so many people it would be too difficult to only single out a few. We hope they know who they are and that they have our unending gratitude and love for their contributions in making this very difficult journey more bearable for Tess and for Matt. We would also like to make mention all the beautiful flowers to brighten up Tess’ house, gifts of food that have sustained us, condolence cards and messages that have connected us all. I have to say the support over social media has been quite overwhelming, and at times we have just looked at each other in shock, than laughed knowing Matt would have loved the attention. I could not fail to fail to mention the ‘go fund me’ that had been set up, guys, that was just an amazingly thoughtful gesture. Every night I would read to Tess every persons name and message. It was very moving for us to see it grow and expand. Also thank you to those people who have supported the White Cloud Foundation and the Wicking Dementia Research and Education Centre. These have been two organisations much in the heart of Matt and Tess. They would not want this experience to be in vein, I have heard Tess say, if they could make a difference to just one person and their family then that would be enough.
Being Matt’s elder sister, I have to say that I don't remember much about Matt when he was little, I think the age difference meant we had completely different focuses. It wasn't until we both got a bit older that I discovered in Matt a friend and ally that I never knew I had. When ever we could we would spend long hours together, either in his room, watching and feeding his fish in his big fish tank, playing video games or having deep and meaningful conversations. Those conversations continued even after I moved away to Launceston and then the Sunshine Coast, and then even over the Sat phone during matts deployments to Iraq. We would talk about our families and what was happening in both of our lives, and he would counsel me with sage advice and I would do the same for him. The thing that sticks out most for me when I think about those moments and our relationship is the feeling of acceptance and a deep love I received from Matt, I knew with not a hesitation or doubt that I could be or do anything and Matt would love me, I had not always had that deep and whole acceptance and it was an absolute gift that I can never repay.
One of the things that I had found so difficult over the last few years was the feeling that I had already lost the brother I knew. I grieved for that sense of loss for a period of time. But then one day Matt rang me while I was at work. At this stage he was getting more difficult to understand, so we would generally only talk every Sunday over Skype with Tess being able to translate. Matt would keep repeating himself until you understood. I would generally know enough of what was going on in a day to day sense to be able to guess from a couple of words what he wanted to tell me. He mentioned my daughter Bronte, now as a mother I was very privileged to witness the very close connection Bronte and Matt had formed over the years. He would often tell me how beautiful she is and how much he loved her. So when he mentioned Bronte i replied saying ‘I know she's beautiful’. Then he started asking who her parents where. Well at this stage I started to get really concerned, had the dementia hit another milestone and progressed some more, had Matt gotten to a stage where he was getting confused, so I said, ‘what do you mean who are Bronte’s parents’, he answered ‘mumble mumble DNA test , DNA test’. When I finely realised he was teasing me. ‘Are you saying that Bronte is too beautiful to be my daughter?’. And he laughed and laughed. And that's when I knew for certain, that the layers of the dementia may have covered him at times, but underneath in his soul he was still very much my brother. And in these difficult years he was teaching me, he was teaching me acceptance, patience and a deep gratitude of thanks that I had been so fortunate that he has been in my life and that he has left an indelible mark on me. And in the last two weeks we had together, all the difficult behaviours went away completely and it was just me and my brother Matt, enjoying each other's company.
I don't know if everyone realises but apparently my brother had quite small hands, he would often get teased about his 'girls hands'. But once when I was visiting, he was recounting his 'girls hands' story and I put my hand up to his and they were exactly the same. Not just the same size, but in shape and appearance, exactly the same. So I pulled my shoes off to measure our feet, and to my amazement, they were exactly the same, hopefully mine were a more feminine mirror image. And it was then that i knew with absolute certainty that this bond I felt with Matt was something more, that he felt like the other half of me.
During a trip after Eleanor was born, Matt and I were up late talking, thinking about our children and Matt’s new parenthood and it made our conversation turn towards the serious, and we promised each other that if anything happened to each of us, we would look after each other's families. Even on the last day Matt and I spent together, we spoke about it again and Matt expressed regret that he couldn't fulfil his part of the bargain and look after my family. I reassured him that it was ok, that it was my turn first. This is a promise I fully intend to uphold, while I am alive and have capacity, That I ensure that Tess and Eleanor will always be cared for and protected.
And of course we ask ourselves why did this happen to him, is there a reason or a purpose. And of course it is a question we always ask and get no answer. And I know that a lot of you have struggled with these questions as well. I have been asked a number of times by many people that love Matt and Tess what they could do to help. And I have never really known what to suggest, but I think I may now. It is really important to me to ensure that Eleanor can grow up fully appreciating and knowing all her fathers best qualities and memories. And I'm wondering if it is possible if I could ask everyone here to share that load with me. To ensure Eleanor knows about Matt’s sense of humour, his ability to never take himself too seriously and to always be prepared to try something new. Get tasered, sure, find out what capsicum spray feels like, no problems. As his older sister it would often make me roll my eyes at some of the things Matt got up to, but all of these elements made him who he was and I would hate for these memories to get lost in time. The other thing I would ask is for help continue Matt’s vows to his wife, to continue to provide support and protection to his beautiful wife Tess.
I have never met someone who has embodied grace, calm, forbearance, fortitude and shown such courage and a focus to make every moment of these last difficult years a much easier one for Matt but also create a wealth of memories for Eleanor. This journey that we have gone on with Matt has been frustrating, painful and so heartbreakingly sad. And I quite literally wouldn't have been able to survive it if I hadn't had her. My much beloved brother is no longer in this world but of course in his wisdom he has left me with someone who has become just as precious and a sister of my heart.
To finish I have a letter written to Matt in two parts, the first a year ago and the second more recently, it was written by a much more accomplished wordsmith than myself, and I feel very privileged that my daughter Bronte has allowed me to share it with you, it highlights the special relationship Bronte and Matt had together
26th October 2014
My dearest Matthew,
Sometimes I want to just call you, or Facebook you, but I don’t know what to say. Well, that’s not completely true, there are plenty of things running through my mind, but in the end I just get too emotional, and recently I’ve realised that that is just not good enough.
For a while I have been trying to lie to myself about what is going on and just convinced myself that time will fix everything, which I have now come to realise is the exact opposite. Thinking that letting it pass now and it becoming easier later is only going to hurt in the end.
I don’t mean to write this letter to make you upset, I write it because I love you. Simple as that. You are honestly one of my favourite people in the world. So many special memories that I hold are with you, whether it’s wrestling on the bed, listening to you yell at AFL games, taking Molly for walks while discussing my issues and listening to your advice. the memory that is most clear is the one at your wedding when I finished walking down the isle and you winked and smiled at me. These are just a couple that come to my head quickly, and are only a small amount of many moments that will forever hold a soft spot in my heart.
I cannot start to explain how much you mean to me, when I was in my darkest place a few years ago you were that second father to me who would listen, with no judgment, just support. You would tease me and make me laugh and when I needed you, you were there, no questions asked.
I know it’s hard that I live so far away, I sometimes crave that hug or arm wrestle but know that when we do see each other it is extra special because it means so much more.
10th August 2015
I’ve been told that this is the end.
I’ve known this for a long time now but last night Mum flew back to Tassie, and though I thought it meant that everything was settled, it actually meant that everything was done.
It could be a week, but I just have this feeling that it may not even be that, and I’m not ready.
I’m not ready to let down the walls that I have spent months building up.
I’m not ready to show that side of me again.
I’m not ready to feel.
I’m not ready to cry.
I’m not ready to accept that you won’t be in this world anymore.
I don’t even remember when I lost you, and that scares me. What was that last day? Did I appreciate it the way that I now wish I did? I would do anything to go back and spend one more moment with that Matthew, because I’m scared that when I tell you now that I love you, you won't get it, and I need you to.
I need you to look up at me, tell me that you love me too, and tell me that everything will be ok.
Tonight is one of the first times that I have cried in the past few months.
I’m scared to accept that fact that I know I will never see you ever again, because I can’t face you when you are as frail as you are, weak and in pain, and I’m so sorry that I couldn’t pull it together to hold you that one more time.
It killed me today to realise that you won’t ever be able to attend my wedding, that you will never meet my children and be that person in their life that you were in mine.
I think, out of everything, the one thing that didn’t happened that I was told would, was the fact that you didn’t forget me. I was scared that one day I would come into your room and your face would be blank, but that never happened. You didn’t forget me Matthew, and I promise never to forget you either.
You have given me strength, you have taught me to be grateful, and you have filled me with endless love, and for that you are now forever in my heart.
Thank you
I would like to start on behalf of myself and Tess in thanking everyone who is here today, it is so heart-warming for us to see so many people that love and care for Matt.
I asked Tess recently whether she would like me to thank anyone on her behalf for their help over these last few years. And she replied that there were so many people it would be too difficult to only single out a few. We hope they know who they are and that they have our unending gratitude and love for their contributions in making this very difficult journey more bearable for Tess and for Matt. We would also like to make mention all the beautiful flowers to brighten up Tess’ house, gifts of food that have sustained us, condolence cards and messages that have connected us all. I have to say the support over social media has been quite overwhelming, and at times we have just looked at each other in shock, than laughed knowing Matt would have loved the attention. I could not fail to fail to mention the ‘go fund me’ that had been set up, guys, that was just an amazingly thoughtful gesture. Every night I would read to Tess every persons name and message. It was very moving for us to see it grow and expand. Also thank you to those people who have supported the White Cloud Foundation and the Wicking Dementia Research and Education Centre. These have been two organisations much in the heart of Matt and Tess. They would not want this experience to be in vein, I have heard Tess say, if they could make a difference to just one person and their family then that would be enough.
Being Matt’s elder sister, I have to say that I don't remember much about Matt when he was little, I think the age difference meant we had completely different focuses. It wasn't until we both got a bit older that I discovered in Matt a friend and ally that I never knew I had. When ever we could we would spend long hours together, either in his room, watching and feeding his fish in his big fish tank, playing video games or having deep and meaningful conversations. Those conversations continued even after I moved away to Launceston and then the Sunshine Coast, and then even over the Sat phone during matts deployments to Iraq. We would talk about our families and what was happening in both of our lives, and he would counsel me with sage advice and I would do the same for him. The thing that sticks out most for me when I think about those moments and our relationship is the feeling of acceptance and a deep love I received from Matt, I knew with not a hesitation or doubt that I could be or do anything and Matt would love me, I had not always had that deep and whole acceptance and it was an absolute gift that I can never repay.
One of the things that I had found so difficult over the last few years was the feeling that I had already lost the brother I knew. I grieved for that sense of loss for a period of time. But then one day Matt rang me while I was at work. At this stage he was getting more difficult to understand, so we would generally only talk every Sunday over Skype with Tess being able to translate. Matt would keep repeating himself until you understood. I would generally know enough of what was going on in a day to day sense to be able to guess from a couple of words what he wanted to tell me. He mentioned my daughter Bronte, now as a mother I was very privileged to witness the very close connection Bronte and Matt had formed over the years. He would often tell me how beautiful she is and how much he loved her. So when he mentioned Bronte i replied saying ‘I know she's beautiful’. Then he started asking who her parents where. Well at this stage I started to get really concerned, had the dementia hit another milestone and progressed some more, had Matt gotten to a stage where he was getting confused, so I said, ‘what do you mean who are Bronte’s parents’, he answered ‘mumble mumble DNA test , DNA test’. When I finely realised he was teasing me. ‘Are you saying that Bronte is too beautiful to be my daughter?’. And he laughed and laughed. And that's when I knew for certain, that the layers of the dementia may have covered him at times, but underneath in his soul he was still very much my brother. And in these difficult years he was teaching me, he was teaching me acceptance, patience and a deep gratitude of thanks that I had been so fortunate that he has been in my life and that he has left an indelible mark on me. And in the last two weeks we had together, all the difficult behaviours went away completely and it was just me and my brother Matt, enjoying each other's company.
I don't know if everyone realises but apparently my brother had quite small hands, he would often get teased about his 'girls hands'. But once when I was visiting, he was recounting his 'girls hands' story and I put my hand up to his and they were exactly the same. Not just the same size, but in shape and appearance, exactly the same. So I pulled my shoes off to measure our feet, and to my amazement, they were exactly the same, hopefully mine were a more feminine mirror image. And it was then that i knew with absolute certainty that this bond I felt with Matt was something more, that he felt like the other half of me.
During a trip after Eleanor was born, Matt and I were up late talking, thinking about our children and Matt’s new parenthood and it made our conversation turn towards the serious, and we promised each other that if anything happened to each of us, we would look after each other's families. Even on the last day Matt and I spent together, we spoke about it again and Matt expressed regret that he couldn't fulfil his part of the bargain and look after my family. I reassured him that it was ok, that it was my turn first. This is a promise I fully intend to uphold, while I am alive and have capacity, That I ensure that Tess and Eleanor will always be cared for and protected.
And of course we ask ourselves why did this happen to him, is there a reason or a purpose. And of course it is a question we always ask and get no answer. And I know that a lot of you have struggled with these questions as well. I have been asked a number of times by many people that love Matt and Tess what they could do to help. And I have never really known what to suggest, but I think I may now. It is really important to me to ensure that Eleanor can grow up fully appreciating and knowing all her fathers best qualities and memories. And I'm wondering if it is possible if I could ask everyone here to share that load with me. To ensure Eleanor knows about Matt’s sense of humour, his ability to never take himself too seriously and to always be prepared to try something new. Get tasered, sure, find out what capsicum spray feels like, no problems. As his older sister it would often make me roll my eyes at some of the things Matt got up to, but all of these elements made him who he was and I would hate for these memories to get lost in time. The other thing I would ask is for help continue Matt’s vows to his wife, to continue to provide support and protection to his beautiful wife Tess.
I have never met someone who has embodied grace, calm, forbearance, fortitude and shown such courage and a focus to make every moment of these last difficult years a much easier one for Matt but also create a wealth of memories for Eleanor. This journey that we have gone on with Matt has been frustrating, painful and so heartbreakingly sad. And I quite literally wouldn't have been able to survive it if I hadn't had her. My much beloved brother is no longer in this world but of course in his wisdom he has left me with someone who has become just as precious and a sister of my heart.
To finish I have a letter written to Matt in two parts, the first a year ago and the second more recently, it was written by a much more accomplished wordsmith than myself, and I feel very privileged that my daughter Bronte has allowed me to share it with you, it highlights the special relationship Bronte and Matt had together
26th October 2014
My dearest Matthew,
Sometimes I want to just call you, or Facebook you, but I don’t know what to say. Well, that’s not completely true, there are plenty of things running through my mind, but in the end I just get too emotional, and recently I’ve realised that that is just not good enough.
For a while I have been trying to lie to myself about what is going on and just convinced myself that time will fix everything, which I have now come to realise is the exact opposite. Thinking that letting it pass now and it becoming easier later is only going to hurt in the end.
I don’t mean to write this letter to make you upset, I write it because I love you. Simple as that. You are honestly one of my favourite people in the world. So many special memories that I hold are with you, whether it’s wrestling on the bed, listening to you yell at AFL games, taking Molly for walks while discussing my issues and listening to your advice. the memory that is most clear is the one at your wedding when I finished walking down the isle and you winked and smiled at me. These are just a couple that come to my head quickly, and are only a small amount of many moments that will forever hold a soft spot in my heart.
I cannot start to explain how much you mean to me, when I was in my darkest place a few years ago you were that second father to me who would listen, with no judgment, just support. You would tease me and make me laugh and when I needed you, you were there, no questions asked.
I know it’s hard that I live so far away, I sometimes crave that hug or arm wrestle but know that when we do see each other it is extra special because it means so much more.
10th August 2015
I’ve been told that this is the end.
I’ve known this for a long time now but last night Mum flew back to Tassie, and though I thought it meant that everything was settled, it actually meant that everything was done.
It could be a week, but I just have this feeling that it may not even be that, and I’m not ready.
I’m not ready to let down the walls that I have spent months building up.
I’m not ready to show that side of me again.
I’m not ready to feel.
I’m not ready to cry.
I’m not ready to accept that you won’t be in this world anymore.
I don’t even remember when I lost you, and that scares me. What was that last day? Did I appreciate it the way that I now wish I did? I would do anything to go back and spend one more moment with that Matthew, because I’m scared that when I tell you now that I love you, you won't get it, and I need you to.
I need you to look up at me, tell me that you love me too, and tell me that everything will be ok.
Tonight is one of the first times that I have cried in the past few months.
I’m scared to accept that fact that I know I will never see you ever again, because I can’t face you when you are as frail as you are, weak and in pain, and I’m so sorry that I couldn’t pull it together to hold you that one more time.
It killed me today to realise that you won’t ever be able to attend my wedding, that you will never meet my children and be that person in their life that you were in mine.
I think, out of everything, the one thing that didn’t happened that I was told would, was the fact that you didn’t forget me. I was scared that one day I would come into your room and your face would be blank, but that never happened. You didn’t forget me Matthew, and I promise never to forget you either.
You have given me strength, you have taught me to be grateful, and you have filled me with endless love, and for that you are now forever in my heart.
Thank you