David John Cartwright

*24th of June, 1963 — 31st of December, 1999* ![220216038_57124d6d-67ba-45dd-af91-0306e8a7d71b.jpeg](https://files.peakd.com/file/peakd-hive/kaelci/23xp4BtRGiW9Gq2FjZrYvW6Z4NNq8HGA5h4MPE3Upt19WMJJNb3j5wu9dH3kSRwLyVduR.jpeg) _{Source: online memorial at Find A Grave dot com.} During the 22 years since the death of my father, I had been separated from his side of the family. Last month that was rectified and I've been enjoying my time catching up with my many uncles and learning about an extended family that I never really had a chance to know. One of my uncles found a small collection of old photos and sent them to me; photos which I wish to share with everyone and anyone who decides to view this post. ![photo2.jpg](https://files.peakd.com/file/peakd-hive/kaelci/23tSiza3PhPFwS7kp2hEH6ofGtBykbyEFLYM86H29sXwgrxeLqqpRtZ2JBvgE2cWDVmS9.jpg) The boy sitting next to the younger boy holding the pup, grinning cheesily at the camera. That's my dad. I never realised until right now, at this moment, how much I looked like him when I was younger. All my life that I remember, mostly my teenage years, my mum was adamant that I looked like a woman from her side of the family. But the shape of my face is clearly that of my father's, it's really only my nose that's from my mother. ![photo1.jpg](https://files.peakd.com/file/peakd-hive/kaelci/EoAbeaPB4cqwh9u4Zv3PhoH5vDymCr2qMYwoAZmUGwNVFncDijVgbWdMhyHSYTMNFdC.jpg) In this photo where the boys are all older, my dad is the boy the curly brown hair. One of his defining features that I will always remember was his big afro of curly hair. In the last year of his life it was wild. I'm a little disappointed that I didn't inherit it. 😅 ![photo3.jpg](https://files.peakd.com/file/peakd-hive/kaelci/245ccwA59vUWAgeA3D7L7ntYWaBnkUNHwSFoWKvEUTzN5kqMCeYQTBWZNJpjwrb475CWs.jpg) One of my uncles was telling me all about my dad from before I was born. He was a guard at a prison in NSW. He loved photography. And he loved motorcycles. He once rented a flat that was upstairs and refused to leave his bike parked outside, so literally drove it up the stairs and into his unit. Apparently one day the owner was going to say something, but my dad drove past in his prison uniform and the owner decided not to bother. 😂 The only job I remember my dad doing, though, was driving busses. Sometimes I would travel with him while he was driving. I would sit in that area at the front of the bus where people were supposed to put umbrellas and folded up prams and whatever, but no one could use that area when my dad was driving — that spot was mine. We would go through the seats at the end of his shift and find all sorts of things passengers had left behind. Some things would go in the lost and found, but others? Our best find was a $20 note. Score! ![photo4.jpg](https://files.peakd.com/file/peakd-hive/kaelci/23u6BZddnL72pVhqSVy7raoyRBoKD2nH2wgffLGvuUDwGLCxRsyEFrr5FahXxHWT92sJp.jpg) I won't sour this post too much with the following story, and will stick to the facts. I only exist because my mum wanted a baby. She had a friend, Steve, who had another friend, David, and Steve was sure that David would quite happily give my mum what she wanted. What my mum didn't want was a relationship or to share this baby. Unfortunately for her, my dad wanted me in his life. He loved me. A lot of their problems — from my now-adult outside perspective that's clear and untarnished by other opinions — were all because of that selfishness. She wanted me, he wanted me, but they didn't want each other. What did I want? By the time I was 6 I had made my choice. I wanted my dad. ![photo5.jpg](https://files.peakd.com/file/peakd-hive/kaelci/23wX3QQhTJRfnUvc6QKAQNK94mDvKKPuFMAtEaCApJ7BoMBg1fjsa4bgHLYmMHqrSRLSY.jpg) My dad and I. The timestamp on the photo says this was taken in 1990. My dad and all of his brothers had blonde-ish hair when they were young and that was another feature I inherited from him. Now it's brown with a lot of grey. 😅 In the 90's we would go to such places like Australia Wonderland and Luna Park, we would go on the Sydney ferries and explore the harbour, he would buy me little mementos from the small shops that littered The Rocks: a shark-tooth necklace or a small gemstone. We visited the museum a lot. I loved all of the dinosaurs and taking photos of all the displays. He would take me on adventures to places like Jenolan Caves in the Blue Mountains. I remember once we went to another cave system called Abercrombie Caves. That one was a lot more... cave-ish than Jenolan. Jenolan is easy to walk and stare at in wonder, Abercrombie was more small cracks and climbing and proper exploring and I didn't feel comfortable there. I remember going to the beach a lot. At one point we lived in Coogee, close to all of Australia's renowned beaches, and we would go to them all. I didn't like Bondi Beach, there were too many people, but Coogee Beach and Bronte Beach were great. So many rock pools to climb and investigate, and the sea pools to swim in... at this stage of my life I was afraid of sharks thanks to watching Jaws. 🤣 Even normal chlorinated swimming pools, far from the ocean, could have sharks in them! ![photo6.jpg](https://files.peakd.com/file/peakd-hive/kaelci/23xVGsAMz3BE18rjXVzZixsocejcKtV5gUxhhMwCCm9zpmoeTJzmSXUTte7PEjtnKbqd2.jpg) At some point we left NSW to live in South Australia. We lived in a small town, Port Pirie, and we would visit Port Germein all the time to go swimming and fishing. It was at this point his mental health started to decline, but that's not a tale for today. We would go to the parks, all the beaches, and Port Germein was the best beach in the region. It had the longest jetty in Australia and we would walk the entire thing and go swimming at the end. He made me a net on a stick and I would swim around and try to catch fish with it. I never caught anything but it was fun. Buried in the sand were cuttlebones and we would collect them for our pet birds to grind. I remember once, we were fishing and as we were reeling the lines in and finishing up for the day, a *duck* flew out of the water and chased after the line. I was absolutely stunned. What was a duck doing, swimming underwater in the ocean? It blew my little mind. One thing that we planned to do was to go to Port Lincoln and go swimming with the sharks. I was afraid of them, but at the same time I was so interested in them. Safe, in a cage, it was an amazing idea. Sadly, we never got a chance to do it. ![photo7.jpg](https://files.peakd.com/file/peakd-hive/kaelci/23uQvQKKFW1PCCLNi6hh4woX37XTxa1xUyCbQ7gyBpVT8fAQAZWcioMHHzMYyBMEbC8dU.jpg) If there is one photo in the collection I've been given that shows the extent of how my dad spoilt me, it's the one above. I don't know what year this was, but I'm thinking it might've been easter of either '98 or '99. I don't remember when exactly we moved in with my grandma, but this was my grandma's loungeroom. My dad got all of my favourite toys and put them in a circle in the loungeroom. He gave them all bowls and plates and baskets with easter goodies, there are boxes of more easter eggs, there's a Sprite and a cup at the ready for me to partake in. It was an easter picnic just for me and my toys, and they had been set up at 4-5 in the morning all ready for me to wake up to. My dad was so proud of his effort, he took a photo of it. That was the way of it though. He did everything he could to please me. We would eat KFC and McDonald's near daily. If I wanted a cake, just because, not for any occasion, he would go to the Cheesecake Shop and buy me one. If we went to the pet shop and I saw a new animal that I wanted, he would get it for me. We had a lot of pet guinea pigs, mice, rats, cats, and birds, even a blue-tongue lizard. I remember once, we went to Toys R Us and he bought me almost every different type of Barbie on the shelf. The checkout chick was shocked and told me that I was such a lucky little girl. ![photo8.jpg](https://files.peakd.com/file/peakd-hive/kaelci/241tfn8eFk1SYhpZzV6VxQzPZL4wapKjkWELD8JNLCbEtugpn2DHSLoAMwS15qbewKAAU.jpg) My dad's life ended on New Years Eve in 1999 and for so long I only remembered him as a paranoid schizophrenic who was failed by the mental health system; I remembered him as a stoner and secretive weed-dealer who then turned to far harder drugs as his condition worsened. But my dad was more than that. He was a devoted father who did everything in his power to give me a happy childhood. And I miss him.

_{All photos in this post (except the first which is sourced) are courtesy of me, @kaelci.}

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