Grandads Will Never Be Forgotten

Frederick W Carter

1929-2016

The loss of a family member is a pain that I have been fortunate in my 30 years to have not had to deal with very often, but on 30th October 2016 I learnt of the death of my Grandad; Fred. The loss of the person whose approval means more to you than anyone else on the planet is a pain that is immeasurable, and added to that pain is knowing that I would not be able to attend his funeral and say my goodbyes while also being there for my family.

On Sunday 30th October I was, as usual on a Sunday, at the Australian Reptile Park. We knew in the week or two before that Grandad's condition had worsened significantly but when the call came it still shook me. We were packing for the afternoon show, I had a Burmese Python in one hand and a giant bag to put it in at the ready and I felt my phone vibrate. Deep down I knew it wasn't right, and when I saw that it was my Dad calling from the UK I got a lump in my throat, knowing it was about 3am over there. I asked the two other volunteers who were with me to take the snake because I knew what this call would be. Of course Dad sounded tired, who wouldn't? Then came the words. "I'm afraid it's happened. He's gone."

In my Grandad's arms as Emily plays

I can't pretend to know exactly what I said but I kept it together as best I could. Dad couldn't give me too much detail but he wanted me to know from him with a call rather than a text, it's just the right thing to do. I cannot imagine how crap Dad must have felt having to pass that news on so I didn't want to be too emotional for his sake. I still remember when he broke the news that my Grandad Briggs had passed away back in 1994 when I was just 8 years old, the words were almost identical; "I'm afraid he's gone." At 8 years old I still remember trying not to cry because sat next to me my sister was and I didn't want to make it worse. What must Dad have felt having to break that news to his young children back then? What must he have felt having to break the news now when it is his own father who has now gone? What an absolute champion, he handled it brilliantly when I'm sure he was hurting deeper than he'd admit with plenty of other things on his plate too.

As soon as I was off the phone I called my wife and broke the news. I let a little tear go and then made my excuses to get back to work, there was a show to happen. I let my colleagues know what had happened and they told me I could go home if I wanted but to be perfectly honest I didn't want to. I knew that the sooner I went home the sooner I would crack.  The afternoon's work at the Reptile

Grandad in the Captain's seat of
Concorde G-BOAC at Manchester

Park focussed my mind and kept me active and I cannot thank Stacey, Jesse, Kane, et al enough for their support that afternoon. We toasted Grandad at the pub afterwards and then I made my way home and as I got out of my car Jess was waiting in the drive and that's when the emotions hit me.

Inside the house, my in-laws came and gave me a hug and the tears flowed. I found some pictures of him and that made it even more real. My Grandad, my hero, was no longer with us. I found a picture of Grandad, Dad and myself on the steps of Concorde at Manchester and decided to upload it to Facebook without hinting that he had gone in case other members of the family had not heard yet. There was another picture of Grandad coming out of Concorde, beaming at the top of the steps with both thumbs up in the air. The happiness on his face, the fact I had provided him with that moment made me very proud and I broke down again. "Look how happy he was!"

March 2016 with Nanna, and for
the last time with Grandad

The next day or two I seriously contemplated how I could get over to the UK for the funeral. Free from the shackles of an idiot boss who said he would not have allowed me the time to do so, I felt a sense of duty that I should be there despite my new job starting on the day of his funeral. The more apparent it became that I wouldn't be there the more painful it was. I accepted it wouldn't be possible but still wrote a eulogy for him, which I recorded and will post below because that is my tribute to the man. I felt that was my goodbye. It cut me very deep to know I couldn't be there for his send-off and part of me is still guilty that I wasn't there, but so glad that I had the opportunity to take leave earlier in 2016 to go and visit. I have the pictures of what turned out to be our final goodbye. They will remain private.

Grandad and I shared a very special bond, we are (*were... Took a proof read to correct that) very alike in many ways and extremely different in others. For example, Grandad would absolutely hate the bad language that I use on a frequent basis, but would enjoy watching cricket, watching planes, and taking photographs as much as I do. He was present when I took 6-39 against Sidmouth, my best ever bowling figures. The last innings I played before he died was my best ever, 137 v Lane Cove. I love the fact they call me Freddie at cricket because as much as it's a reference to Flintoff it's of course his name too, so that makes me proud. He was the one responsible for my interest in aviation. Yes, my father was in the RAF and I had been around planes since I was very small, but as much as Dad tried to encourage an interest in planes it was Grandad who really got me going. He taught me how to identify different types of aircraft, and I can't put my finger on what it was Grandad did that got me going rather than Dad because I used to love going to RAF Brize Norton with Dad as a kid!

Grandad always talked about this day, and remembered my
bowling figures of 6-39. My best bowling performance.

The great thing about Grandad was that he never pushed any of his grandchildren into doing something they didn't want to do. Don't get me wrong, he'd offer his opinion! But he always said that if that's what we really wanted to do then to go for it with everything you've got but be prepared in case it doesn't come off. I remember being a bit upset at age 20 that he'd told me my chances of playing professional cricket had pretty much gone because I "hadn't been spotted yet", but he was absolutely right and let's face it, as much as I loved the game, I didn't have the mental application and drive I would have needed to make it big. He loved that I had got into the flying game, I knew he was disappointed I hadn't finished it all off. I am too. I knew he wasn't keen on me leaving for Australia but he also supported it because he knew that's what I wanted, and he loved the fact that I had found Jess and was happy. His family's success made him happy, I knew how proud he was of all of us. He told me every time I saw him, "Cousin X is doing this and is doing well, Cousin Y is doing that and is doing well which is smashing!". I saw him swell with pride.

He made sure we knew how proud he was of us. I hated knowing that he was upset. I hated knowing that he and Nanna couldn't come over to Australia for our wedding because I knew deep down he wanted nothing more than to be here for it but knew he couldn't make it. We FaceTimed him a couple of days after and he was so upset he couldn't make it and that in turn brought tears to the eyes of everyone in the room here that was talking to him and Nanna.

Grandad in front of his beloved Concorde at Manchester

I'm not really too sure what the point of this blog post is, other than to try to convey the sense of loss I am feeling. I understand that I didn't see Nanna or Grandad anywhere near as regularly as other family members due to the distances between our homes but I still believe I had a very special relationship with him. I'm not saying it was better or worse than anyone elses, just different. I feel very lucky to have shared so many special experiences with a man I consider my hero, and a man I aspire to emulate. I will always miss him.

In a cruel twist of fate, my wife and her family also suffered a huge loss just a fortnight later, when Jess's paternal Grandfather also passed away. There are parallels because her Grandparents don't live nearby either, across in Tasmania in the beautiful city of Hobart. I have not yet visited. All I could do in that situation was offer my complete support because it's still very fresh in my memory exactly how that feels. The whole Wallace clan headed to Tasmania for the funeral this week, but I did not join them. Part of me feels I should have been there as support for Jess, even though she was happy for me to stay here in Sydney. What is important is the continuance of the memory of two very well loved individuals and their legacies, and they will both be sorely missed by their families.

Rest In Peace, Frederick W Carter, and Aidan Wallace.

My eulogy to my Grandad. We love you and we will always miss you. xx