It’s hard to put into words the loss of someone like Paul, a brother and a truly one-of-a-kind human being. His life, though cut short by cancer, was lived with full-throttle energy, heart, and humour. Paul didn’t just exist, he showed up for life, and he showed up for all of us.
Paul was a man of action. He was fit, strong, and forever on the move.He had a real knack for spotting a bargain on Marketplace. His creativity and resourcefulness were second only to his work ethic. He never did things by halves, whether it was home improvements or cheering on the Pies every footy season. Black and white ran deep in his veins.
And while Paul loved a project, he also loved to bring people together. His pizza oven which, of course, he built himself was more than a structure; it was a reason to gather. He was in his element. He made sure that what he created wasn’t just for use it was for sharing.
As a sportsman, Paul was a proper all-rounder. He excelled in swimming, football, golf, cricket and squash, no ego, just natural ability and fierce determination. Whether in competition or just mucking about, he gave it everything, and he made it look easy. That same spirit of quiet grit, capability, and unassuming talent carried through every part of his life.
But beyond all that, Paul was simply a good man. He had time for others, took pride in his work, and never lost his sense of fun. He brought a steadiness to the people around him, the kind of person you relied on and admired, whether you told him or not.
When Paul was young, he was always pulling things apart just to see how they worked and somehow putting them back together, often with a few leftovers. That curious, clever mind was there from the start. In every photo, there he was with his trademark thumbs up , a simple, cheerful gesture that summed up his easygoing spirit.
As an older brother, Paul was my protector. Steady, strong, always looking out for me, especially in our teenage years and early twenties. I felt safe with him in my corner.
We will miss seeing him wearing his Crocs. We will miss his pizzas. we’ll miss the way he made us feel, welcomed, supported, and loved.
Now he’s with Dad, and though that brings some comfort, the ache of missing him is deep.
Rest easy, Paul. You lived well. You loved well. And you were deeply loved in return.
