(13 December 1987 - 22 September 2019)
  • Jesse's Eulogy


    For those who don't know me, I'm Jesse, one of Dave's many many friends.

    Me and Dave met on the first day of kindergarten. He was sitting on the floor with another boy named Shawn Prackish playing toy cars. I sat down joined in and it wasn't long before all the parents lingering snuck away while the kids were not taking any notice.

    Me and David quickly became the class clowns. Our teacher, mean old Mrs Swift, tried keeping us apart for most activities with little success. We would always end up at the same activity table trying to think up new ways to make the crybaby kid Ernie cry.

    Another hobby of ours was faking injuries, which usually involved using tomato sauce, to get sickbay ladies to put bandaids on. I don't recall us ever being successful.

    Being Dave's friend also came with benefits. He would get canteen orders which he would share and his mum Lorraine would be at every school event and carnival bringing up hot chips and drinks.

    David moved to another school a few years in and we didn't see much of one other until our teenage years at the skate park. Then later when we turned 18.

    That's the thing with me and David, we could go years without seeing on another, and our friendship would pick up right were it left it.

    In our early adult life we had so many memorable times and funny enough many of our childhood traits still existest. Of course Enrie wasn't around anymore, but we found a new Ernie with Woodzy.

    One Boxing Day me, Ben and Dave headed down towards Batemans Bay to a camp ground called Congo. Our friend Morea/Morgzy spent Christmas break down there with his family as a tradition. 

    Three 19 year old boys, with fireworks and butt load of alcohol in a campground full of familes rolling in at 11pm, we didn't exactly get a warm welcome.

    We camped right next to another group which were around the same age as us, but very different. They were from Canberra, all uni students, had long hippy like hair and I assume were vegan. 

    It wasn't long before we had nicknames for each of them. One I remember had long goldy blonde hair, so we named him Goldilocks. Unfortunately they ended up losing a few items in our camp fire. We also brought back the village homeless man, got him drukk and he tired fighting Goldilocks.

    I know you are wondering "How did we manage not to get kicked out?" well they tried, and the following year were prepared for us and we were moved on within hours of arrival.

    David has always been a big part of the memories in my childhood and young adult life.

    He moved away again in our early-mid 20s, but when he came back when falling ill, but again there was no awkwardness we went back to being good mates again, but it was a more mature friendship, I promise.

    When we hung out, he could forget about being sick for awhile. I'd bring up my laptop to play games at hospital or order pizza and watch YouTube videos at home.

    When we spoke about his cancer, he would ask, "Will everything be ok, everything will be ok won't it?" And we would all reassure him it would.

    I'm grateful for the time I was able to spend with David and feel sorry for a world without him. I'll never forget his full body laugh, playful questions and obsession with mortal Kombat . David brought me and Ben's friendship together after a few years of falling out of touch. Now mine and Ben's daughters play together and it reminds me so much of young Dave and me. 

    I brought my daughter Milo around to visit David earlier this year and we went to get lunch. David shared his chips with her and was so kind and gentle with her. He told me with sadness that he would be able to have children. My heart sank and I couldn't find the words to comfort him.

    But what I can say now is he was a great man and would of been an amazing father. When I take my daughter to her first day of school, I'll be thinking of him and all the other milestones we shared as kids.

    I want to acknowledge Lorraine, David's mum, who was by his side for absolutely everything and anything. She's an amazing mother and hope I can be 10% of parent she is. There is no words to describe the dedicated mother she is.

    I've always been envious of the relationship Nicole has had with David. If only we all had a sister like Nicole.

    Over the past week talking to friends and spending time with his dad, mum and sister, I've felt underneath all the sadness there is a joy that his still part of him with us and Dave will live on, through us, forever.

    Dave wouldn't want to see any of us upset, he would want us to celebrate his life!
    Uploaded by Nicole Pine
    • 2 years ago
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