In Memoriam

She was my baby girl… and she was the sparkle in her mother's eye.

On the endless journeys I have taken with Maisie over the last three years, I had a lot of time to think and I remember constantly praying for a miracle — for Maddie to recover from her horrible disease. Then one day, I realised that I could not expect a miracle because I'd already had one. The miracle was Maddie's life, and her life was full of them.

It was a miracle the way she came into the world — in such a hurry we couldn't even start getting ready to go to the hospital before she was born at home. Mad was in such a hurry, my mother and I ended up delivering her. I was the happiest man alive that day, the 31st March 1988, with the birth of my little girl who I never thought I would have.

Maddie's early life was filled with joy and happiness with a confidence and determination to take on anything which, combined with her positive, sunny disposition, made her a sheer delight to bring up. She loved going to Adventurers with me and particularly loved the camps we went on with other girls her age and their dads. She loved staying with the Pococks in Loxton and being with her close friend Megan, she loved the family holidays, particularly to Thermopylae in the Grampians. It was a miracle that she only broke her arm when she decided it might be fun to jump off the back of a Ute while it was still moving. Maddie loved everything and everyone she came into contact with.

I remember the time she wanted to build a garden while we were staying in Loxton; so she stripped some leaves off a tree, planted them in the ground, watered them — a lot — and then wondered why the leaves didn't grow into trees before her eyes. She loved playing the flower game with me when we would each alternate in naming a flower. Whoever ran out of ideas first, lost the game, which was invariably me. Her mother had taught her well.

She attended St Therèse Primary School and during that time, she lost her mother. It was not easy for a young girl to lose her mother at the age of nine and then have to live in an all-male household for the next twelve years. It was an absolute credit to her how she accepted this tragedy and got on with her growing up process. Maddie attended Scotch College from Year 8 to Year 12. Another miracle was that she was the only girl in her year to be a member of the First VIII girls rowing crew in Years 10, 11 and 12. She made many lasting friendships from her time at Scotch, many of whom are here today. With an excellent TER in the high 80s, she entered the University of South Australia and completed a Bachelor of Human Movement and later a Masters of Occupational Therapy.

Now, like most kids, doing chores was not her strong suit. On the numerous times that I might ask her to do something around the house, the reply was always "I'd love to Dad, but I'm running late for work, netball training, going out with friends, university" — in fact pretty much anything that might avoid doing that chore!

I remember a time when she was about 18. I was trying to get Maddie to take a few bags of old school clothes to the Scotch College opportunity shop. They had been sitting in the hall for about six months and because I had reminded her about one hundred times but to no avail, I decided to put them in her car. To my astonishment, the next day I found them back in the hall. So, I decided to send her a text message with what can only be described as a fairly clear message that I was not happy. And this is the reply I got back:

But one of the great things about Maddie — her single mindedness never lasted long. A short time later I received this message:

Now I just want to point out here, the fact that I received this message after midnight on New Year's Eve in no way diminishes the sincerity of that message.

Later, Maddie travelled to London where she worked as an OT in a hospital for a while. Upon returning to Australia, she became tired of Occupational Therapy and decided she might like being a sales rep for Streets ice cream instead. Pretty random! Then the next miracle occurred. From over 150 applications, Maddie won the advertised position even though she had no sales experience whatsoever. As those who knew her well can attest, Maddie could be very persuasive when she wanted something — and the other 149 odd applicants never stood a chance.

Then her life changed dramatically when she met the love of her life, Matt Morran. They travelled together in North and South America, living at Whistler in Canada for a while, with several trips to their beloved Las Vegas and an adventure of a lifetime through Mexico, Central and South America. They settled down in 2019 and lived in Glenelg. Maddie worked for a rehabilitation company, starting off in claims. They quickly recognised her outstanding qualities and promoted her to the position of Wellbeing Manager.

July 2021 came with the arrival of their pride and joy, Maisie. Four months later Maddie began to have symptoms, starting off with her foot dropping, and after a further nine months of numerous visits to Flinders, neurologists and countless tests — on 1st September 2022, she was given the devastating diagnosis of Motor Neuron Disease. MND. The "Beast." The one disease that doctors will tell you they have no answer for.

The next miracle was how Maddie and Matt quickly organised their wedding to be held in Las Vegas in four weeks' time and promptly announced that her and Matt's families were required to attend. Looking back on it, it was extraordinary that after experiencing the worst day of their lives, they were able to pick themselves up off the ground and organise an overseas wedding. For those who were there, the memory of that beautiful ceremony on the pavement in front of the spectacular Bellagio Hotel will last for a lifetime.

On those same endless journeys I did with Maisie, I kept asking why — why is Maddie having to face this? How can this happen to this family again? Then one day it occurred to me: I had been asking the wrong question. Unfortunately, the right question is — why not? As the great Neale Daniher recently said, the world has no obligation to be fair or do what's right. They are man-made words, unfortunately.

We all get dealt a different deck. Or maybe we all get dealt the same deck but we draw the cards in a different order. Most of us will draw the Queen of Hearts at least once. Many of us will also draw the Queen of Diamonds — but lurking somewhere in that pack of cards is the Ace of Spades. If we're lucky, the Ace of Spades will be at the back of the pack, but none of us really know when we will draw that card. And for Maddie, she drew it far too soon.

This is a horrendous disease — it slowly but surely takes away everything we all take for granted. It takes away all your mobility, your ability to swallow, your capability to talk. It takes your dignity, your capacity to breathe, and ultimately it takes your life.

To Matt — your love and devotion, and patience, has been extraordinary. As her father, I want to publicly recognise the incredible sacrifice you have made to be Maddie's primary carer. There are few people on this earth that would have done what you have done. If there were medals being presented for love and devotion, you would win gold, silver and bronze. Your road ahead will be tough — God knows I've walked that path. But there will be good times again, and Maisie will be a constant and beautiful reminder of the times you have cherished with Maddie.

To Maisie — your mum's biggest fear is that you would not remember her or know her. But I reassured your mum that you will know and remember her, because we will tell you, often, so that she will never be far from you. We will tell you how amazing she was. We will tell you about her positive disposition, her love of adventure, how incredibly brave she was, and also how inspirational, free-spirited and determined she was. These were the phrases that her family and friends, who attended the wedding in Las Vegas, gave me when I asked them at the wedding dinner.

In time, Mais, we will show you the incredible photo albums that your mum and Nicola put together of Maddie's life, the nearly 200 tribute videos and messages sent to Maddie earlier this year, and the videos that she made when she could still talk that will be shown to you on your future birthdays.

As many of you are aware, Ollie and Bia recently created a tribute site to Maddie for all her friends and family. Very recently, when Maddie and I read together the countless tributes that people had made to her, I could tell that she was proud of the person that she was. We both laughed together when she said, "I was probably a bit nicer before I got MND, Dad."

To my baby girl, to my "Sky Full of Stars" — we will talk about you, we will cry for you, and most of all we will love you. Because in the end, there's only love. Just love.