Camps were always funner when

Camps were always funner when Sam rolled up, camping gear rattling in the trailer, roo tea and topo maps, risky adventures, oversized campfires, stargazing. In our family, he was Mozzie Man, an epic figure who’d grab Bryn in a hug he couldn’t refuse, humming like a mosquito as he came in for a tickle. He taught Neisha the ‘art of tarpology’, and hoisted Lucy onto his lofty shoulders when she cut her foot prawning so she could see out the expedition as his spotter.
Sam and Dave had a special synergy…wild adventures, wild hair, and wide grins.
One of my last precious moments with Sam was after Dave died. I found Sam on his own, knocked off kilter in grief and awe after an encounter with a willy wagtail, a messenger bird that speaks of death and loss. The beautiful man with an enormous loving heart was crushed, but willing to share this glimpse into the rawest reaches of his spirit.
Sam was a big giver, a big hugger and a big thinker. Biggest love to all who loved him.