My Brother Michael

Michael was five years older than me, and like many brothers with an age gap, we didn't always see eye-to-eye growing up. But looking back, he leaves behind memories that are uniquely his.

Even when we were very young, his incredible mind was obvious. I remember him writing the code for his very own computer game on his Commodore 64. With Mum's help, he actually sold it to someone, and I think the whole game was handed over on a cassette tape! He continued to have great success doing exactly this throughout his life. Many times I tried to figure out what he actually did for work. The only time I ever really understood was when he explained that back in the 1990s, he came up with a system that allowed large companies to update operating systems remotely. Before his invention, people had to go to each terminal and update them manually. I believe the guts of that work was eventually sold to Microsoft. While I could be wrong about the buyer, it is safe to say that Michael's brilliance made a definite impact on the world.

As a teenager, he also had a mischievous side - sneaking cigarettes by the side of the house, or taking Dad’s Jaguar out for a spin when Mum and Dad went away. I also have a distant memory of a goldfish somehow being put in a microwave at one of Michael's wild parties while the family was away. He could be rough, too. I still remember the heartbreak of him pulling my beloved Humphrey B. Bear from my crying hands just to stick a running hose inside a little hole worn out from my constant cuddling. It was a dramatic, theatrical mess as the sudden gush of water sent Humphrey’s stuffing flying everywhere. But Michael also had moments of real brotherly kindness, like the time he drove me all the way into the city on opening day just so I could see Back to the Future 2, because he knew I was a massive fan.

He didn't always have a way with words, and as adults, he didn't often show an interest in the details of my life. His heavy silence would often make me nervously talk just to fill the space. I like to think he was listening and taking it all in, but just didn't know what to say back. Because he was so smart, he rarely tried to explain his world, assuming it wouldn't make sense to normal people.

Ironically, it was the COVID-19 period that brought us closer together. While he was living in Thailand, he very generously let Scott and me stay at his house in Forster as an escape. We loved looking after the place for him. In return, whenever he flew back to Australia, I became his quarantine delivery service - dropping off essential supplies to keep him going, including supermarket goods and, of course, a bottle of Jack Daniels.

Our relationship wasn't perfect, but those quiet, practical exchanges during a wild time in the world gave us a new way to connect. I hope he has found peace.

I also carry an immense debt of gratitude to Michael for my own health. About 10 years ago, he was diagnosed with Neuroendocrine Cancer (NETs) - the same disease our mother, Camille, passed away from. It was Michael’s diagnosis that alerted us to the fact that this was a familial cancer. He immediately shared his specialists' details with me so I could get scanned and ensure I was cancer-free. Even though he lost his battle with the disease, his legacy gave me the crucial knowledge that may prolong my own life.

I want to send my deepest condolences and love to his family during this incredibly difficult time. My heart goes out to his wife, Tar, and their son Oscar, as well as his two daughters from his first marriage, Katie and Maddie.