81. A Tribute to a much loved Son

Without Pieter’s encouragement to take on the “Mystic project” I wouldn’t have started writing these blog posts, and I’m now very thankful that he did encourage me to begin writing. However, once these were completed and I’d asked myself “what next?”, there was one subject which I’d been thinking about for some time, but which I realised would be much more difficult.

How does a parent write about a very dearly loved son, who was killed in a car accident at the age of 22 years, just when he was about to begin a new stage of his life? When I started thinking about this, I seriously wondered if, or indeed how, I could share his story with others. And, to all the parents out there who have found themselves suddenly thrust into this position, our hearts go out to you, as you too learn to live in your new world. And, also to the siblings, whose own worlds have so dramatically changed overnight.

Greg was our first child. Pieter does have two children, six grandchildren and one great-grandchild, from his first marriage, all of whom live in Holland, and about whom he has proudly and lovingly written in previous blog posts. We, ourselves, have a daughter, Nikki, who has herself written about her own journey since the death of her much revered older brother, with whom she had shared so much. Needless to say, we are very grateful for our blended family, which includes Nikki, her husband Mike, and their 3 children, who have brought such joy into our lives.

From the very beginning Greg was a very gentle and loving child. Pieter still clearly remembers how, at bedtime, he would want to listen to the same stories, night after night. He would roar with laughter at the same funny bits and then he would ask Pieter, “Can you tell me about Billy again, Dad?” We all clearly remember how he loved watching the “Thurnderbirds” on TV and sitting on the floor with his Lego blocks, building and dreaming, hour after hour.

From his earliest years, I would say that Greg’s defining characteristic was his sensitivity. When he first started school, I was always the last mother to leave the playground because of her child’s reluctance to separate. However, while this sensitivity always remained, he steadily grew in confidence, and by the time he had reached high school he was already showing a deep inner strength. In her speech at his funeral, Nikki, who now has a PhD in English Literature, expressed it so well when she said, “Even as a little boy, Greg was capable and funny and incredibly sensitive and perceptive”. In fact, in his last year of primary school, Greg chose to change to a new, much larger school, where, by the end of that year, at the primary school graduation, he was awarded a prize which had been endowed by earlier parents at the school, in memory of their son who had died. This prize was awarded to the boy who had contributed the most to the life of the school community and who showed a desire to help others. This was the first of a number of times that we were made aware of how Greg, in his own quiet way, so positively affected those with whom he came into contact.

It was also at this time (6^th class) that one of Greg’s new school friends invited him to a Sunday morning youth group meeting at the local Anglican church. This invitation was to have a major impact on his life. The youth group itself, which was known as Teens Club (TC), was a very large and thriving one and we still remember so clearly the house parties and camps and the end-of-year trip to the Whitsundays, which he did after completing year 12. These, together with the weekly church activities, were among the most valuable experiences in his life. So began Greg’s long involvement with this youth group, into which, in Nikki’s words, “he threw even more energy than he did into all his other passionate interests”.

Within this wider group, Greg’s friendship group grew too, no longer just the very close school friend who had invited him, but also, again in Nikki’s words, a “solid group with their own identity, and even a name as time went on and cemented their relationship, “The Fellas”. It was with these friends, who shared his enthusiasm for the outdoors, that Greg’s interest in rock climbing, abseiling, caving and other outdoor activities developed. In fact, he even encouraged Pieter to go out with him one day and Pieter very clearly remembers how Greg persuaded him to abseil off a cliff and jump backwards into a void. Greg fixed the ropes and connections himself, double checked them, and then said, “Trust me, Dad”, and Pieter did.

“The Fellas” developed into one of the most close-knit group of friends it would be possible to imagine, sharing their faith and their love of outdoor activities. Pieter, Nikki and I have always felt so very grateful that, following Greg’s death, they had continued paying such an enduring tribute to the friendship they had shared, by sending us flowers, both on the date of his birthday and on the anniversary of his death, for years afterwards. We certainly are very thankful that, in the short space of his life, Greg had had such valuable friendships.

And, within the wider TC group, there were other special friendships. Amongst the many cards that we received after his death, one friend wrote, “Even in his early twenties, Greg displayed such integrity, maturity and compassion. His wisdom and maturity were powerful characteristics.”

And another, “Greg was an exceptional person and very good friend, who held such promise. His most outstanding characteristic was a real concern for others. He had a great way of accepting people the way that they were. The admiration others had for his many virtues was evident in the way he spoke at more 21^st birthday celebrations than anyone else”.

Later, when he reached university, Greg was also a part of another group of friends, who also shared the many facets of his life. Very few people are as fortunate as Greg was to have been blessed with such valuable friendships.

Even though Greg could have done almost anything he chose after leaving school, he was quite clear in his own mind that he wanted to do an arts degree, and, as this progressed, he found it hard to decide which of his subjects he wanted to continue with, English or Philosophy. Philosophy won, and he gave it his all, knowing that if he wanted to make a career of it in some form, he had to reach a very high standard. He had just achieved this, gaining First Class Honours, and was on the threshold of fulfilling his dream of doing a PhD in Philosophy, when he died. He had also reached this standard in English, and, although we were, of course, very proud of these achievements, what meant even more to us were the letters which we received from the Heads of both the Philosophy and the English Departments, following his death. One wrote that, “Greg was esteemed by everyone who knew him”, and that, “First Class Honours in Philosophy and the winning of an Australian Postgraduate Award are significant academic achievements. In the nature of the case, achievements of that kind also point to a future of great promise.”

And, from another, who had been looking forward to working more closely with him, “I had become extremely impressed by his openness and brightness, but particularly with what a genuinely nice person he seemed to be.”

For us, Greg had always seemed to be unusual, in that he was a true intellectual but, at the same time, he seemed to be so in tune with people and placed so much importance on his friendships.

Although Greg did choose to pursue Philosophy, not English, as the next step in his education, there was one final body of work which he left behind him, which we cannot overlook mentioning. Beginning at the age of 16, and through to the age of 22, Greg wrote over 100 poems and, shortly before he died, he had compiled these poems into a collection. Nikki had shown this collection to her supervisor in the English Master’s course which she was doing, and her supervisor had been very positive about the quality of his work, emphasising “how remarkable it was that someone so young could have produced such a volume of work of such quality”.

In early 2008, as the 10^th anniversary of Greg’s death was approaching, Nikki and Mike had come to us with their suggestion that we mark this milestone by hosting a special evening, “A Night of Poetry, Wine and Cheese”. This evening, they had suggested, would be a night to which we would invite those of Greg’s friends who were available, as well as some family members. It would be a night which would feature readings of Greg’s poetry (by his friends) and, lastly, it would be a night at which we could all remember Greg together.

We have always felt that Greg’s poetry is a tangible link with him and we are very grateful that we have it. Also, as is noted on the included copy of the cover sheet of the handout which Nikki and Mike had prepared for that evening, his poems were written for people (usually, his friends), and formed parts of conversations: letters, psalms and encouragements.

As we had also wanted to ensure that those of his close friends who had moved away felt included, we had communicated with them as well. The handout itself had included a copy of the 15 poems which were read by Greg’s friends that evening, and we have selected one of these, “Atlas”, to share with you. (refer attachment)

Finally, with Nikki’s permission, Pieter and I would like to close with a couple of excerpts from her speech at Greg’s funeral:

“Even though I want to be a writer, I could write and write and never cover all there is to say about Greg. Greg was essentially one who strove for sincerity and honesty above all else…..Greg was my soulmate, my protector, my teacher and always, in the strongest way, my big brother.”

Pieter and I are profoundly grateful that we had Greg in our lives for as long as we did.

Greg’s funeral took place on 2 March 1998. It was attended by more than 450 people, including representatives from both the Philosophy and the English Departments of the University of Sydney.

Sue

PS. The next post: “Colorbond” will be published by Pieter on Sunday morning, 28 September 2025.

Attachment – Greg’s poem “Atlas”