In memory of Bryn Epiha

I’m raising funds in memory of my son Bryn Epiha

Dear Family and Friends,

I am sharing this in memory page with you, my family friends and colleagues have come together over the past 11 years to raise awareness and funds to help with asthma research. I have attached an extract of a memory which I would like to share with everyone, it is long, but please finish until the end. I believe anyone who has lost a loved one to asthma will completely understand it's sentiments.

"As I sit here thinking about where I was 4 years ago, I get angry!

I remember my wife calling out for help and running into the kitchen to see my child losing consciousness. I remember their eyes and watching the light fade from them as I desperately call their name and carry them down to the floor.

I remember the smell of the bile that was coming out of their mouth as I was doing CPR on them and already knowing full well that they had gone. I remember how cold they were lying on the floor and the colour of their skin changing.

I remember my poor children standing around in shock while my wife and I worked on him. I remember the relief I felt, knowing the Paramedics had arrived. I remember working with the Paramedics and having that glimmer of hope that my child will be saved.

I remember the saddened expressions on all the faces of the Paramedics and friends who came to help. I remember feeling sorry for the Paramedics, who were so apologetic and crying at not being able to save my child. I remember the sun going down in the west and the brown kangaroos eating the grass on the front lawn.

I remember with a very clear memory, feeling numb, lost and wondering “What the heck just happened?”. Talking to a young Police Office with a tattooed sleeve and seeing tears in his eyes and the regret on his face as he asks his questions. Knowing full well, that he would rather not ask them. Knowing that this was just an unfortunate event and no foul play had been done.

Knowing that my child is in the room next door to me, lying cold and lifeless with a sheet covering him ready to be taken away by an Undertaker. Thinking to myself that this is just a terribly horrible dream and I’ll wake up soon. Well I haven’t woken up; this nightmare is still on going.

I don’t remember how I got back to the Coast that night. Everything was blank dark and voided.

I woke the next morning in bed surrounded by my children asleep next to me feeling at peace watching them silently breathing and then the previous days memories flood back to me!

I drove back to the house the next day like a man possessed. I took risks that I would normal not have taken. I drove hoping that something would happen.

As I was driving, a little voice was telling me “What would happen, if I was the cause of an innocent being hurt”. Through the grief and anger, I willed myself to slow down. I drove up the rocky driveway and entered my eerily silent house. I knelt on the cold kitchen floor where I was frantically working to save my son the day before and screamed out a sound that still haunts me now.

I don’t think that I could replicate that sound again, but I would recognise it instantly. I laid down on the kitchen floor, trying to make a connection, trying to make sense of what had happened. Hoping that someone or something could give me an indication of what to do next. Nothing happened!

Every once in a while, things flash back, sights, sounds and smells. Even words trigger off memories.

I decided to write him a song. As I was writing, I felt calm and serene. I left feeling a little better and thinking that I could cope.

I was wrong!!! I didn’t cope. I don’t know if I ever will!

I try to hide it better, most of the time. Sometimes it gets the better of me.

I don’t want sympathy, I don’t people feeling sorry for me, I don’t want people telling me it gets better with time, I don’t want people saying that he’s in a better place, what would they know? Where is this better place? Give me directions and show me where I can find it!

I’m not religious, am I being hypocritical in hoping that there is a better place? I don't believe in Heaven, but I hope that there is one for my child. I don’t care about where I end up, but I would hope that there is somewhere better for him. What parent wouldn’t want to switch places? I would in an instant! Does that make me a selfish person?

My child would have been a far better person than I, I admit it freely. He would have been someone who would have made a difference in the world. He would have flourished in anything that he’d put his mind too. He would have grown to achieve something unique. He should have out lived me and raised his own family. He should have made a future for himself.

But now I will never know. I'll never hear him complain or laugh about school, teachers and homework. I'll never see him make new friends, I'll never teach him how to drive a car. I'll never take him fishing again. I'll never see him get married or raise kids of his own. I'll never throw him a 21st or Wedding. I'll never teach him how to pass a ball. I'll never argue the finer points of who is faster, stronger or who backs the best sports teams.

All I have of him now are memories and “what would he have been like?”.

Tomorrow, will be the start of Year 5."

Please make a donation in memory by using the 'Donate' button. 

Sadly, more than 400 people die from asthma every year. I want a future where no lives are lost to asthma.

Your gift in memory will support ground-breaking research, provide evidence-based services and programs, and deliver education and training to help the 2.7 million Australians living with asthma live freely. 

Thank you for your generous donation in memory.

All donations over $2 are tax-deductible.