Goodbye Uncle Boy

My mother's brother John (Boy) died on Wednesday. He was 84 and had prostate cancer which had spread to his bones. I last saw him a fortnight ago and was struck by his frailty compared to when we had seen him at a family gathering a couple of weeks ago. His death leaves his wife Pat as the only representative of the previous generation. Now my cousins (and my sister and myself) are the Older Generation - and I'm the Oldest of the lot, yuk!

Boy was called that because he was the only son of my grandparents, born five years after the last of his four sisters. I don't think he was spoiled, but he was certainly treasured. He joined the Army in 1944, as soon as he was 18, and was sent to Borneo. Here is a photo of him and a couple of mates on a captured Japanese gun. He is at the front.

I have lots of photos of him looking dashing in his uniform and slouched hat, and I can remember as a four-year-old meeting him at the station when he returned from the war.

He married Pat in 1947 (Dorothy and I were the flower girls) and set about establishing a family and a career. He trained as a teacher with the government assistance offered to returned servicemen and moved into deaf education, helping to develop the West Australian School for the Deaf. He retired as Principal of a primary school. His family flourished too.

The funeral is next Wednesday. I expect there will be a crowd.