He was even Santa Claus once

Anyone who knew Frank knows what a generally agreeable bloke he was. He always went with the flow, gave everyone the benefit of the doubt and his first instinct was to accept people who meant something to you.

During my childhood and teens I never remember him taking against any of the friends I bought home or had for sleepovers, even if they acted entitled or ungrateful (and some did – you never really know some people's standards until they're guests in your house).

Till the end of his days he loved Joanna, he loved Wendy and he loved Emily – I call her first born daughter princess sometimes partly I think because that's what he called Emily.

Because when I look back on him there's something I remember about him (and I might have a slightly skewed perspective others might correct me on) but I remember him always being really good with kids.

Whether it was one of the barbecues or new year's eve parties in the backyard in Gabo Place or school friends we sometimes had occasion to invite out with us to restaurants for family dinners (I still remember my first ever trip to Sydney's Suntory teppanyaki restaurant on Kent St with great fondness – there was a crowd of about 15 of us), I always remember him getting along really well with children.

One day when I was probably 14 or 15, mum, dad and I went to a circus in Miranda Park in the days when there used to be one on there every couple of years.

He was sitting behind me, and for some reason, two really little kids (twin brothers if I remember correctly) of about six or seven who I presume were sitting close by with their own parents had taken a liking to something he did or said and started talking to him.

I wondered who was talking so excitedly right on top of us, and when I turned around he had one on one knee and the other one was climbing onto his other knee, both of them bursting with excitement telling him everything that was going on in the ring, Frank laughing along with them.

When Wendy and Emily moved over the Sydney and we lived in a flat in Cronulla we used to have him over as often as we could all manage – he was living at his brother Jim's place in Randwick and working in either Caringbah or Menai at the time, so we all had a lot of driving to do to get together.

But we asked him one night if he'd have dinner with us and then sleep over to babysit so we could go out late, pulling the sofabed out for him to sleep on and leaving them to it. Emily was about eight at the time.

When we came home and opened the door he was lying every which way, covers strewn everywhere, snoring so loudly he was probably keeping neighbours occupying the two floors above us awake, with Emily lying there beside him sleeping like a baby.

If things had been different we would have had him over to Perth for more visits, but we lived in America for most of the 2010s so we weren't even here and last time he came (2011) he already wasn't very mobile, so it would have been a major operation to get him here and back later in his life.

But if we had managed it and he'd lived longer, I think he would have loved my grandchildren. He certainly would have loved Lucas, who's the most good natured and lovable kid ever and who I've always had a very close bond with, partly because of a lot of the qualities  I think I got from Frank.

I sometimes imagine the discussion we might have had about what they'd call him. Since I'm 'poppy', I thought 'pop' might work, which is what Ethan and Mia used to call him, or even 'big poppy'.

Wendy's dad passed away just a couple of months before Emily's second (Amelia) was born and Frank was gone almost a year before that, and number three (Alyssa) was born in the middle of COVID, so they never got to meet their maternal great grandfathers.

But I sometimes picture them both sitting on his lap, cuddling into him asleep or dazedly watching TV like they do on my lap sometimes, and I can't decide who'd be happier being there.