Eulogy for my father

Hans Bruno Busch
24.07.1939 - 28.04.2015

Bruno was born and grew up in Germany. He was a bright child with a love of nature and music. As a child and into his teens he was a keen skier, with trips to the Austrian ski fields a welcome treat. But never one to be satisfied with what he could see every day, he began a life of travel and adventure when he embarked on a trip half way around the world to this wide brown land we all call home.

In Germany he had worked for the newspaper where his father was chief editor and this career carried him throughout his life. In Sydney he began his working life at a printing firm as a compositor before moving to The Daily Telegraph but it was while he was working at the printers that he met the woman who would be his first wife and the mother of his only child, Gloria. They tied the knot in 1964 and lived in Bondi for a short time before moving to Germany, then England and Canada.

Arriving in Canada in the midst of a printers strike, Bruno found employment hard to come by. Toronto offered only work driving a forklift so he and Gloria packed up their Vespa Scooter, which they had brought with them from England, with a tent and some clothes and set off across the breadth of Canada to Vancouver. They were quite a sight to behold, and probably appear in many old home movies taken by American tourists in their large cars and camper vans. The intrepid pair spent many a night camping in road side sites, even living to tell the tale of their encounter with a black bear.

Vancouver offered no more work than Toronto did and Bruno and Gloria made their way back to Sydney. Setting up home in Cronulla for the first of many times, Bruno returned to the career that had been the backbone of his working life. Travel was not off the agenda, however. Trips to various locations around Australia, including a venture to far north Queensland after a severe tropical storm had passed through. They were met by swollen rivers, which Bruno suggested Gloria walk through to find out how deep they were before he drove through them. It was only after getting back into the car after doing this half a dozen times that they remembered that they were crocodiles.

After four years in Sydney, despite trips away, the urge to change scenery struck again and with housing prices increasing, the couple moved to the Adelaide Hills. During their time in Adelaide, Bruno joined the Volunteer Country Fire Association and even had to put these skills to use fighting a bush fire on his own property. He also set up his own landscape gardening business while also keeping his hand in as a compositor at the Adelaide Advertiser.

Bruno’s wanderlust kicked in again and at the end of 1979, he and Gloria moved back to Cronulla, where they welcomed their daughter, your author, into the world, and though the couple separated in 1985 and were divorced in 1987, they remained good friends throughout the years, even surviving a short lived second marriage in the late 80s.

It was during his time at the Herald that he met Lynette and they formed a lasting friendship.

Lynette first met Bruno when she was a copy person for the Sun Herald. He approached her and asked if she would like an apprenticeship in compositing. Lyn knew nothing about this area of newspaper production  but took on the apprenticeship and it was during those years she struck up a good friendship with Bruno.

Being the generous person he was and knowing of her circumstances Bruno offered Lyn his spare room. His generosity was not limited to Lynette, but extended to helping her grandmother and nothing was ever a problem.

As the years went by, his love of travel rubbed off on Lynette and they visited many states in Australia, and Bruno always had a tale or three for each one they visited. When Lyn mentioned a desire to go to America, Bruno suggested he accompany her, but why stop at America? The globe trotting pair visited many places, and Bruno was able to visit his family in Germany one last time.

All through his life he had a love of music, and especially of the piano. He could play almost anything, from intricate classical pieces to soulful jazz. But music was not the only art form that captivated him. His skills with a paintbrush are evident from the pieces on display here today.

From the beauty of nature up close to sweeping landscapes and portraits, Bruno could capture the essence of his subject with unerring accuracy, flavouring each piece with his own style. His art took its inspiration from the world around him, and he spent many hours bush walking, especially in these very gardens in his later years.

On retiring from the newspaper his urge to travel went up a notch. He sold his flat in Redfern and bought a house in Tasmania. Before moving there he bought a four wheel drive and a caravan and traipsed about the countryside taking beautiful photographs, some of which he translated into stunning art works.

His many years of adventures around the country, and around the world, came to end when ill health began to take its toll and a move back to Sydney, to be nearer family and friends, became his new priority. He  asked Lynette and her now husband, Jeremy, if he could build on top of their house. As if they would say no to someone who had been such a great and loving part of their lives for well over a decade.

Bruno didn’t the meaning of the word no and, boy, didn’t that get taken advantage of by the next generation. His grandson, Richard, and his honorary grandchildren, Liam and Jayden, were spoilt from the day they were born. He may have been a grumpy old man at times, but he loved those boys as only a grandparent can, and they loved their Opa.

Bruno was impatient, he hated waiting in a queue for anything, and he was as stubborn as a mule (and they were his good qualities) but one of his better qualities was his bravery. This was evidenced in volunteering to teach me to drive. Trips down Bulli Pass to teach me how to corner would have tested anyone’s mettle, but he stepped purposefully into the breach and survived.

Bruno loved to have a good time. A beer after dinner. A coffee before lunch. A late breakfast with the works. He enjoyed nights out to see a good band, or nights in with a good book or a good movie. He could talk your ear off and had a story for every occasion. He was, and is, one amazing man.

He was generous with his time and never expected anything in return. He never wanted to burden anyone with his worries but was always there for his friends to shoulder their troubles. He would have been most embarrassed by the fuss being made of him here today and would be urging everyone to get to the pub and have a drink, rather than stand around waxing lyrical about his life.

He was an avid reader, and a frustrated writer. He loved words, exemplified by the Jonathan Swift quote, “Proper words in proper places make the true definition of style”. He inspired a love of words and literature in me also, especially poetry.

This is one of my poems, entitled Requiem.

Light a candle, let it burn
And in this sacred place sojourn

I have left this world at peace
So have your eyes their crying cease.

Think of me when I was small
Or, if you didn't know me then at all,

Think of me at my best
Now that I am laid to rest.

Be quiet in your heart so dear,
I say this now to allay your fear,

For wherever it is that I am now
I promise to you a sacred vow:

That I will watch over you
In the good and the bad times, too;

I will listen to every prayer
And know that I will always care.

So while I cannot hold your hand
Or show you that I understand

I hope you'll remember all I've said
And, at night before you go to bed,

Smile up at that star so bright
And I will be your guiding light.

Though far away and sadly missed
(No longer hugged, no longer kissed)

I will be there every day
If you remember in some small way

The way I smiled with my eyes
Or my softly sounding summer sighs

And thought it was my time to go
Always know I loved you so.

Bruno was diagnosed in late 2014 in throat cancer after previously being diagnosed with Chronic Lymphocytic Leukemia. He underwent radiation and chemotherapy in early 2015. He died in Campbelltown Hospital of aspiration pneumonia.

If you are reading this, please donate to a reputable Cancer Research Charity in your area to honour the memory of my father and the millions of others who battle against all forms of cancer. The money you donate now could help fund the treatment or cure you or someone you love needs in the future.