Member-only story
The Loss Of My Best Friend
After 30 years of friendship
In 1991 I hitched a ride from Kununurra to Darwin with a couple of truck drivers. This was not a planned journey, as I was running from my abusive husband. What I was going to do when I hit Darwin? I had no idea.
The truck drivers had a spare room at the hotel they were staying at, and allowed me to use it for the three days they were staying there, then I was on my own and thought I’d be spending nights on a park bench, until I could sort something out.
But then on Christmas Day, two days after I had arrived in Darwin, I met a man called Bruce. He was the cleaner at the hotel and it turns out, 18 years my senior. The truck drivers had told him I was homeless and he kindly offered me a place on his lounge room sofa, until things sorted themselves out. I was extremely grateful for his kind offer.
From that day forward, Bruce became someone extremely important in my life. He was like a father to me and was always there to give me a helping hand. He was my soul mate, my best friend, someone I can never remember ever crossing words with.
With Bruce’s help I did get back on my feet. Over the following years I became the proud mother of two gorgeous boys and Bruce stepped up and acted as their grandfather without ever being asked. He loved my boys as if…
