Uncle Shane passed away on Saturday. Mum rang me while I was out walking Biscuit with Theo.
Uncle Shane to me growing up was one of the toughest people I knew. Big, strong, muscles, tattoos. He reminded me of Popeye. I remember whenever we drove up to Devonport or Launceston, being on the lookout at each truck that drove past to see if it was Uncle Shane driving it. I know a few times it was, or at least, that's what Mum and Dad told us.
When Beth was born, he took great delight in turning up about a month later at Peter and Mary's (we were still living there at the time) to say Hi and meet Beth and see how we were doing. And then a couple of years later he turned up again in The Bus which Beth was fascinated with.
The last time I saw him was at the 2019/2020 catch up at Sister's Beach. I knew then of course that he wasn't well, but he was still happy as always, we had a couple of great chats.
Farewell Shane. I'm glad that your suffering is over.
Tim
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