Another loss

February 2013:

My brother was ringing me. He never rang me. I normally initiated the calls ... 

"Hi Ben"

"Hey Brett. I am so sorry to hear about Frikkie, I know he was like a brother to you."

And there it was, it hit me. Ben had found the simple words that I was missing. Frikkie had died, I was in shock and I did not understand why. I saw him as a good friend, a close friend, but I never realised the impact that his death would have on me. I never understood why I felt so lost in those first few weeks ... few months. Ben had spoken it out loud. My relationship was more than just friendship - we had an honesty in our relationship and we were so fundamentally different that there was a massive gap in my life. I felt like I had no friends left. I felt like my brother had died ...

February 2005:

There was a need ... a need for space. We were running out of it. And it was this time that I saw the simple generosity of Frikkie. Before I went to South Africa with him, I only knew him a little at squash. But Frikkie had said to me that if I needed any help to build the room that I should call him ... and I did.

After spending a couple of days with Frikkie and my (cabinet-making) brother, we had the basic structure formed and the basis of a great friendship as well - helping each other, being there, and enjoying each other for who we were.

A major 'moment' in my journey to teaching was my South Africa trip in 2007. Not just for 'What color is my parachute?' but also for what I learnt there from my mate, Frikkie.

He showed me that it was okay to 'wait and let it happen'. To see what comes your way and not necessarily plan it all out. I had gone directly from school, to uni, to one company. No break, no gap year, no time off.

After South Africa, Frikkie and I joined our local golf course along with his two boys (Chris as Mike). We played every weekend together, and each Sunday night we had dinner with our two families. We were close, very close.

That was nearly 5 years ago ... our friendship had grown as our families have been for weekends away as well as a trip to Bali together.

Frikkie was like another brother to me.

Frikkie traveled back to South Africa a few times each year. In January this year he headed over as normal. He check in on his South African business that sold remote control cars, helicopters and diecast cars. It was normal for him to do this. He spent three or so weeks in South Africa and Germany at this time of year for the Toy show. I shifted my golf games to earlier in the day while he was away (Frikkie did not like early morning starts even though he did play better at that time).

This time, though, he took Chris and Mike. Chris was on university holidays and Mike was about to start his course as a first year. They could spend some time together in South Africa and play some golf ... follow some of the paths that Frikkie and I had taken in 2007. Spend some father and sons time.

On the 16th February this year my wife came back from being out in the morning with a shocked expression. Frikkie and the boys had been in a car accident with a truck in South Africa.

The impact of the truck had thrown Frikkie from the car. The truck had come out of nowhere from the other side of the freeway and it was a miracle that they were not all killed in that instant.

Driving behind Frikkie and the boys was a lady who stopped when she saw the crash. Her husband was an off-duty parametric and she called him. He arrived before the ambulance and (I believe) saved Frikkie's life. 

Back home, Lynette (Frikkie's wife) was arranging to fly straight out ASAP (24 hours as it turns out is the minimum by Australian requirements). Frikkie was in hospital and in the best of care thanks to his business manager, Tucky, who had paid for what needed to be done.

Lynette and their daughter arrived in South Africa. We practically moved in to look after Frikkie's mum and dad who lived with them in Australia.

Frikkie was having all sorts of operations but he was stable. He was over the worst of it. I was talking to my wife, Colleen, about me going over to be beside Frikkie in two weeks time when Lynette would come home for a break. And so I went away that long weekend ...

It never occurred to me not to go away on a golf trip with work colleagues. It was something Frikkie and I would do together and he would have loved.

I had not taken my mobile phone with me. There was no need. Frikkie was stable. The danger was over. At 11am, on the 7th hole of Tocumwal Golf course in Victoria Australia, the golf pro came out in a golf cart to our group and asked 'Is Brett Murphy here? He needs to ring his wife'.

I must have been in shock, I could not remember her number, I had to ring my dad and ask for Colleen's mobile number. I thought she was going to say that Frikkie had taken a turn and they were taking him into surgery ... but I was not prepared.

Between sobs ... 'He's died, Frikkie has died'.

Albury Railway Station where I transferred from my bus to overnight
accommodation to get the first plane out the next day.

One week after the crash, Frikkie had died. Friday 22nd February. I was mute (rare for me I can promise you). I rushed around not knowing what to do - get back, stop golf, how do I get back? I had traveled down with other people and so had no car.

The short version ... at 3pm Friday I started ... 30 min car ride, 3 hour bus, overnight stay for a 6.30am first flight back to Sydney on Saturday morning - car, bus and plane.

The next week and a bit was a blur ... in and out of their place, answering calls, and on it went. Lynette and the kids arrived back on Monday 4th March (my Mum's birthday). On Tuesday Lynette asked me to come out with her to pick a place to put Frikkie to rest.

The view looking over Frikkie's resting place

So here I am, sitting on the back of a 7 seater golf buggy (Frikkie would have been impressed) driving around the cemetery with Frikkie's wife, mum and dad. We found a place at the top of a hill. 

On Friday 8th March we put Frikkie to rest. I was honoured to do the eulogy.

And now I have my own space, but it is a hole. I have a hole in my heart and my friendship. We started our friendship by building a wall together and now I felt like I had hit one.

I thought I knew grief, I thought I could handle it. I was wrong.

Who would have thought that this tragedy would lead me to my passion ... till next week ...