My cousin, Dave, died on Monday, 17th November 2025, on the Isle of Wight. It is a difficult thing to grieve on the other side of the world from all those who loved him like I did. There is nothing for me to “do.” I can’t visit with my family and cry, laugh and reminisce. Don’t get me wrong, they have included me and supported me amazingly. Thank goodness for FaceTime, WhatsApp, Messenger, and the like. But there is nothing like being together in the physical sense at times like this. So, what I can do is put pen to paper. Dave loved reading my stories, and I know he would be quite chuffed to have a place on this blog forever.
For Dave xx
Dave and I first met in 1972. I don’t recall that meeting to which he was slightly miffed until I reminded him I was, in fact, only 7 years old then. Dave’s Mum, Gwen and my Dad, Don, were brother and sister. My Dad immigrated to Australia a few years before I was born. Like everyone in the family, my Dad and Mum had a soft spot for Dave, so I heard a lot about him growing up.
When my Dad died, we brought his ashes back to his beloved Isle of Wight in 2016. Dave, along with all available family, came along to say their goodbyes and provide lots of love and support to me and my husband, Andrew. Dave’s first words to me, with tears in his eyes, on that visit were, “Last time I saw you, you were just a little girl.” There is something inexplicable about sharing DNA, an ancestral pull… and our connection was instant. That trip also coincided with Cowes Week, and we kept bumping into him at bars. He would hug me and get emotional each time – but that could also have been the beer or Guinness.
In 2018, my eldest son, Jesse, then 22 years old, made it to the IOW at the end of his three-month European trip. He met up with Dave and suggested very strongly, “Mum wants you to get onto Facebook. She wants to keep in touch more.” Well, the rest they say is history. Dave embraced this mode of social media, and when Covid came along, his weekly video updates to all on his page almost went viral – well, that’s what I told him anyway. Such a social creature, he struggled with the COVID lockdowns, but through Facebook, he found a way to stay connected, share his struggles, which in turn made us all feel less alone. He was a very empathetic man. So we messaged each other regularly, Facetimed, shared photos, videos, long stories and memes. It was lovely and I looked forward to all our interactions.
We once did a game on Facebook with our cousin Billy, where you had to post an album cover each day of your favourite Top 5 albums. No comment, just the picture of the album. Well, Dave certainly forgot about the no comment part when I posted Human League’s DARE cover. Clearly, Glam rock was not his thing. “There is a lot of lipstick in your choices!” he said. He rolled his eyes at The Sweet – so imagine what his reaction was when I also told him I had once been in the KISS army. He questioned if we were, in fact, related. I redeemed myself with him with INXS and Fleetwood Mac – he actually saw INXS play in Belgium in 1990, and he saw Fleetwood Mac in concert twice. Only last year, he went to Wembley to see The Boss perform. How excited he was for that concert. He was certainly a connoisseur of music.
In 2022, I came for an IOW holiday, and Dave and I were “roomies” for a few nights. The trouble he went to buying different snacks, making his spare bedroom pretty. I could tell he had put a lot of thought into making it nice for me. His beautiful sister, Elaine, sadly died the day I arrived. He was very close to her, and I really wasn’t sure he would be up to seeing me at all that visit, understandably. But see me he did, and over many Guinness and a raspberry flavoured beer on tap at the Crab & Lobster Pub, which he was mortified at how much I liked, we had a very special time together. We sat up late in is Albert Street flat, looking at old photos, sharing family stories and laughing and crying together. I told him off for calling me Lorry, not Lory, he told me off for saying soccer, not football and boy, the word barracking (which we say all the time here in Aus) was very triggering for him too. We agreed to disagree, eventually, on my dislike of anything to do with cricket, “I’d rather stick pins in my eyes”, I said. He just shook his head in dismay and this time questioned if I was in fact Australian. Each night as we went up the stairs to bed, he would yell across the landing, “Goodnight, Roomie.”
I had a return of some health issues in 2023, and he would message me several times each week. He became friends with one of my best friends on Facebook, and he would check on me through her often. The emotional support and encouragement he showed me during this time, I will never forget. He was kind, supportive and humorous. I did not feel the physical distance between us at all, such was the warmth and love he provided.
February 2024 saw Dave enjoy the Festival that was his 70th Birthday. He partied like a young lad for over a week and talked about the love he received from everyone a lot. I am so glad he got to enjoy his milestone birthday.
In May 2024, Andrew and I came back again – my Uncle said I am like a bad penny that keeps popping over, but I love the IOW and my family here so much. We had a lovely family lunch together, organised by our beautiful cousin Judith, and then a special “Aussie” Quiz night at the Crab with Dave, cousin Andy and Dave’s lovely friends. I said to him, “You are like a rock star when you walk into that pub – you know everyone.” He loved that, and oh, how he loved his Crab family.
We said goodbye for now that night, and Andrew and I literally booked our tickets to come back to the Isle next June, literally the week before he got sick. Dave and I were counting the sleeps on the countdown app we shared. We had booked an Airbnb close to his flat to minimise walking for his sore knees and to be in close proximity to his home away from home, the Crab and Lobster. I cannot fathom that that is only 196 days away, and he won’t be here for it.
This is not the goodbye I had ever imagined.
I will treasure every photo, message, video and meme that we have shared. He was handsome, funny and quick-witted. A big softie who would tell me I made him “blubber” when telling him something heartfelt. He was a lover of live music, festivals, all sports and Guinness (probably not in that order). He was a loveable rogue with loads of friends. He was a proud Ventnor man. He was a Saints man through and through. He had a wicked sense of humour and a cheeky laugh to go with it. He was very clever and knowledgeable about seemingly everything. He enjoyed his time working abroad as an Aircraft Fitter, but didn’t like to talk about it. He, in fact, did talk about it, proudly, ALL the time, so amongst family and friends we would often say to each other in his presence, “Did you know Dave worked abroad?” He would always chuckle at that good-naturedly. He was thoughtful in remembering birthdays and posting cards. He didn’t leave things unsaid and was open with his thoughts and feelings. He was a loving son, brother and brother-in-law, everyone’s favourite cousin and nephew, and he was a beautiful Uncle to his nieces, who meant the world to him. He had so many friends and was still making new ones till the very end. Everyone just liked his company so much.
To me, he was a bonus brother and will forever be my best roomie ever. I could not have loved him more.
I am grateful for all the memories and time spent together, but oh how I wish we were making more for many years to come. A piece of my heart, in the shape of the Isle, will be forever his.
Dave, until we meet again, may the Guinness be on tap, Bruce Springsteen stay on repeat, and England win the Ashes. I may even “barrack” for the poms.
I love you with all my heart and will miss you more than I could ever say.
Lory Be 