“I’m not your son, you’re not my father
We’re just two grown men saying goodbye”

James Blunt – “Monsters”

I don’t reflect on the small hours of July 31st, 1991. After 34 years it still seems too raw. I had seen my fair share of death in my time as a paramedic but dad’s passing was different. Personal. Painful. Close to the bone.

And then recently I was drawn back to that moment through the lyrics of James Blunt’s song “Monsters”. It was not only as if he was in that darkened room with me all those years ago – he was reading my mind.

On this, the anniversary of dad’s passing, I thought I’d share some words from the book “Without Precedent” about dad’s final days.

Everyone knew that the end was near. Phil’s brother, Fred, arrived from Toowoomba and was shocked by his emaciated state. But Phil seemed to be waiting for one last arrival, his daughter Pamela. When she arrived, heavily pregnant, Phil greeted her at the front door and his world was now in order with all of his children under the one roof.

He arranged the clothes he was to be buried in, along with his highly polished shoes, wedding ring and watch. Nothing more, nothing less. With this task completed, he confined himself to bed, but still refused any medication to relieve the pain. Still his cheeky grin and wit survived. He asked Owen if everything was arranged for him to return to Toowoomba to be buried. Owen confirmed that it was and Phil asked, “How am I getting there?” When Owen told him that East West Airlines had offered to fly him to Toowoomba, Phil grinned, “I’ve flown a lot of aeroplanes over the years, but this will be the first time inside a box and under the floor.” Aside from the humour, his conversations became more disjointed, often confusing generations and one of his sons for the other. Recent memories were gone, but memories of boyhood pranks and his Air Force days were still sharp.

Still, it was sad for all to see the once straight-backed officer and gentleman fading so fast. After a week in bed, the pain became too great and he agreed to medication. As the syringe’s plunger eased the morphine into his veins, Phil descended into a sleep from which he never woke again. Owen had been nursing his father and now took to sleeping on the floor beside his bed. Phil’s sleep was deep but restless and made it impossible for Edith to lie beside him. In the early hours of July 31st 1991, Phil’s breathing became rapid, the change in tone waking Owen. It became even quicker and shallower, the muscles in his neck tightening as if there was one last fight left in the old warrior. He didn’t want to go but he had nothing left to offer. Finally, the breathing became imperceptible puffs and then he was gone. Owen reached over and held his father one last time and felt the warmth still left in his body. Then he walked into the darkened living room and lay down by the fire.

Some hours later, around dawn, he was woken by his mother’s words. “Kids, your father’s gone.”

“No need to forgive, no need to forget
I know your mistakes and you know mine
And while you’re sleeping, I’ll try to make you proud”

– James Blunt “Monsters”.