Gavin’s Family
Marguerite
Gavin, Reckless, Thomson.
This intriguing second name, chosen by his mother Lilian, was to honour the grandfather that raised her, her two sisters and much younger brother, who lost their missionary parents at a young age. Grandfather Reckless, was a daring transport rider, carrying post and vital necessities to remote and distanced parts, when South Africa had few well- known roads and journeys between settlements, towns and cities were long and arduous and not undertaken lightly.
In many ways, the words daring and undertaking long and arduous roads, sums up what we as a family witnessed in Gavin, both in his approach to life and in his self-determined career. He tackled both courageously and with a very adventurous spirit.
On a more personal note, Gavin and I met and married within ten months of meeting each other. Another Reckless decision on both our parts. Like all marriages, ours’ was made in heaven.
Gavin died, just 18 days short of our 48th Wedding anniversary. A lifetime. So many memories come flooding back, perhaps best recorded in the photographs and words of this tribute, requested by me and so carefully and lovingly put together by Robyn, on behalf of us, Marguerite, wife and mom, and her older sisters, Charlotte and Rowena.
Father and husband, Gavin cared greatly for his family of women, taking great pride in all their achievements and not being one to hand out advice, was always encouraging us to “think for yourselves”. Our daughters always rose to any occasion and have handled many challenges in their lives with courage and enthusiasm.
He was delighted with the arrival of our grandchildren and was really a great granddad who despite his age still managed to find energy to tease, run, box, and kick a ball around with Sean and Ryder and loved having granddaughter, Jenny, dressed in full ‘Frozen’ fairy regalia, yelling happily as she followed him around the soccer field.
As everyone knows, his interest in his work was almost all-consuming, but he always had his family’s best interests at heart. We had everything we needed and his clear minded approach of “not chasing spooks” kept us all firmly grounded. When younger, his enthusiastic energy to involve us in cycling and canoeing, running and other challenges, and the fun we had on those occasions, will always be appreciated and remembered.
No manual can ever prepare one for the hardest eight months of one’s life (my anxieties started long before the diagnosis). My life. Your life. Our life. Gavin your courage to fight this illness and ‘hang in there’ as long as you could, for us, your family, was exemplary and showed how much you loved us. We loved you.
Finally, Gavin, I shall miss so much about you, you were always so resolute and never gave up, a trait that I think you have instilled in all of us. Thank you for the adventures, all the wonderful, unusual places you took me to, thank you for caring, I know you always did (that’s love). Thank you for being a steadfast partner through the really tough times, thanks for the fun in good times, and quite simply, thank you for being there.
Charlotte
Dad, you’ve reached the finish line of your earthly marathon. Your tekkies wore out. Your time was not too fast and not too slow (28,570 days) and your grit was anything but lackluster. Looking back, you’d probably say you’re pleased with your performance. The last six months up heartbreak hill you bore with quiet, dogged stoicism that was, frankly, remarkable – just like you. Even then you managed to have a few good moments and, true to form, still managed to make us laugh (and cry at the same time). Your determination to ride your “bike” not from your easy chair but from a wobbly kitchen stool and love of the ceaseless, boring loop of CNN -even in your last days- gave us a few chuckles because we knew then that, just by that, you will always remain slightly unfathomable even to those of us that knew you best.
You had your detractors, and you had your supporters in this race. But, looking at the hundreds (it seems) of heartfelt messages mom received from around the world when you timed-out, I think you can happily conclude you had more supporters than you ever realized cheering for you from the sidelines. It is a comfort for all of us to look back on all the things you did, all the friends you made and all the things you achieved and realise you missed nothing in your life - except perhaps your unrealized ambition to become a Morris Dancer.
We wish you could have been with us longer, but it was not to be. Maybe, and understandably, you just got tired of all the women in your life and just needed a good, long break! And God, SHE took mercy…
In my imagination, you’re up on a cloud twanging a harp and sampling double malt and Italian liqueurs around a bonfire with dear friends, family and pets departed long ago. You’re probably still the one laughing loudest at your own jokes. One day I’ll join you there - or in hell. Whichever as I’m sure it will be the same place. I won’t care as long as I’m with you and don’t have to watch CNN with you.
Love you always
Char
Rowena
Dad, you were a constant in my life for 45 years – always loving but sometimes a little scary too! Your advice was careful and measured and you challenged me to have the courage of my convictions. You were the most determined person even when you were so ill – determined to be a great dad, a fun grandpa always willing to play chess, get into a cold pool and kick a ball and making sure mom was ok.
You made family trips an expedition into the history of a person or place and despite all our protestations we loved these journeys. Who could forget our trip to the Moffat Mission Station, the stories of Livingstone at the Victoria Falls and seeing the tiny “dorp” where you grew up, stopping at battlefields en route to our holidays at the beach or the unexpected bus journey to Mombasa?
Your love of the bush, wildlife and their Latin names filtered down to all of us and yes, Aepyceros melampus sounds a lot more intriguing than talking about an impala! I’m pretty sure we were also part of your inner circle trained in the “safe” way to stick our heads down warthog burrows to find ticks! Don’t worry mom will never know!
I will always try to follow your favourite mantras and will hopefully continue to “give ‘em hell” and “knock their socks off” just like you always wanted us to do and just like you most certainly did in your scientific endeavors.
I will be reminded of you whenever I see gold-rimmed bifocals, buffalo, bicycles, dogs, goldfish ponds and rugby games and of course when I see your face staring back at me in mirrors.
I am comforted that although you are no longer “here”, your atoms and energy are still part of the giant cosmos in which we live.
“Dear Gavin you were always a good grandfather to me I am so sorry that you died. I loved it when you and I tackled each other and I loved it when you encouraged my football. I will miss you.”
Robyn
Dad, I've always joked that by the time you had your third daughter, you decided that if you couldn't have a son, you would just treat me like one. And so I was taken along to rugby matches and cricket games and went on weekends to the bush with you and your friends. I was even mostly called "Bob".
You tried your best to get me interested in playing sports (despite me being terrible at all of them) and reminded me always and all the time to be tough. To stick up for myself. And to drop the "jammer-dat-ek-lewe attitude" at any hint of self-pity. When I imagine you now, you are standing at my bedroom door, very early in the morning, booming "Up and at 'em, Bob" at drill-sergeant volume.
Mom has since told me that you never did want a son (lest you be forced to take him fishing) and really, I knew all along that you just had an unwavering belief that your girls - your “rat-bags” - could do anything.
We believed in you too. Though you did give us reason for pause from time-to-time. This last week has been filled with as many funny stories and memories as it has tears. Some particularly memorable ones: keeping petri dishes of various scary-sounding viruses in the drinks fridge; telling us you were bringing home a puppy but failing to mention you had chosen Cody - a warthog-hyena, bald-tailed rescue, so ugly he was barely recognisable as a dog; and getting banned from my Grade 9, D-Team netball matches (both of them) for swearing at the ump.
My favourite stories are less entertaining. That you were able to listen without giving advice. That you were so knowledgeable you could answer my questions about nearly anything. And my very best - that you looked pleased to see me every single time you did.
I love you, Dad. I'd be proud to have half the life you did, and you’ve been one of the very best parts of mine.
Rob
A Tribute to Margie
While this memorial is about Dad, we owe it to his memory to also pay tribute to our mother, Margie, on his behalf. No one has been a better champion of “Project Gavin” through the years. Dad would admit he was not a patient man, he had a bad temper, he spent a lot of time in front of a computer or TV and ignoring the domestic parts of his life that are, when you think about it, vital to the achievement of anything worthwhile. And let’s face it, when he met my mother (we didn’t show you the best photos) he lacked a certain finesse. One cannot live well without meals, a warm bed, a good home, style tips and practical companionship. One cannot die well, not of cancer anyway, without round-the-clock care, empathy, and an absolutely vigilant eye. Mom excelled in all these things and more.
In the end, of all the people in this world, none was more important to him than our mother Margie. He wanted her there beside him. He did not really care for much else and she was holding his hand at the gates of death. So, for all his impressive work and interesting life, the best thing he ever did was marry our mom, a steadfast and caring lady, companion of the highest order and most loyal friend.
Thank you
Gavin’s extended family have been so kind during this very difficult time. A big thank you to his sons-in-law - Hardi, Joel and Brent - as well as the many family members near and far away who have been such a wonderful support.
The Jacks | The Swarts | The Dowers | The Rices | The Prinsloos | The Selibowits’ | The Singers
To Sean, Ryder and Jenny - Grandpa loved you very much and you make our whole family so happy, even when we’re feeling sad.
