Tom Kirkwood was only nine-years-old when he was diagnosed with a brain tumour. For the following eight years he lived with that diagnosis, endured weeks in hospital and coped bravely with the invasive impacts of the disease, the treatment and mountainous emotional and physical challenges that come with such a cruel hand of fate. Tom died on August 18, just one day shy of his 18th birthday. On Monday more than 1000 people gathered at his funeral to pay their respects to his family and to honour a young man, wise beyond his years and a true mate in every sense of the word.

IN his father Marcus’s words, Tom Kirkwood was quiet and unassuming. He was not a high achiever. He was not a born leader. Nor was he a great scholar, sportsman or horseman yet he inspired those that were by his sheer courage, grit and determination that left all who met him standing in awe.

He reminded many of “The Man from Snowy River”. He reminded his Dad of that famous rider’s pony who was blood from hip to shoulder yet his pluck was still undaunted and his courage fiery hot.

Tom’s presence, and with that the knowledge that he faced life’s ultimate confrontation of terminal illness with the courage and solitude of a warrior, won him admiration far beyond his humble existence.

He was only in Year 4, nine years and eight months old, when he was diagnosed with a brain tumour. His funeral was on Monday. Some 1100 people signed the attendance book at that funeral. Some found even picking up the pen to sign their name too difficult; a far easier task than the daily emotional and physical challenge Tom and his family faced every single day he tried to fight off this disease.

Mum Sharon faced that challenge as an expert. They call her the doctor in the family. Throughout Tom’s illness she was by his side through every moment. She understood the medical terminology and if she didn’t, she researched it until she could.

She sat through the endless hours in a sterile hospital environment and the emotional roller coaster, just like Tom, as a warrior.

Dad Marcus is quiet, polite, humble. A beautiful, gentle man who worships his family. Marcus, a farmer at heart and lover of the Australian bush, wanted simple things in life. Kirkwoods Produce is a family business. He saw himself as mentor to his children. He watched his own dad build the family business and all he wanted was to continue that tradition of family supporting family supporting the lifeblood of Australia, the man on the land.

Those priorities change when your child is diagnosed with a brain tumour. This family had already endured more than any family could possibly be expected to cope with. Tom’s older brother Sam had already survived the trials of leukaemia. Three years in fact. Sharon has a significant vision impairment, a genetic disorder cruelly passed on to her youngest son, Harry, in more severity. Brother Joe never takes his health for granted.

So how does one family cope with such a mountainous challenge. At the moment they would tell you they aren’t. Tom was such an integral part of their entire existence. He was the smile, the joke in the morning, the reason to get out of bed, the farm-hand expert. He completed the family.

On Monday they said goodbye to Tom with the same courage he demonstrated through his most difficult of days.

Tom always put on a brave face in public. If he couldn’t, he didn’t go.

He would come home, gently place his tired body on the lounge. It hurt to roll over, to make even the smallest of movements.

He had difficulty sleeping. He understood his fate. Too much for any teenager to have to endure but he did so with such magnificence and that is where everyone who knew Tom will find comfort for he was one outstanding character.

Those at Monday’s funeral heard his stories. He would be genuinely embarrassed to hear himself described with such esteem of character.

Parents talk about rebellious teenagers but how on earth do you rebel against a diagnosis you have absolutely no control over.

Tom always did it Tom’s way.

He rebelled behind the handlebars of a motorbike on his property and he rebelled on horseback of best mate Swaggie. His cattle dog Banjo was never far behind.

He always had a love of the land and his cattle skills reflected the ability only someone with sound horsemanship and cattle knowledge could attain.

One can only imagine what drove him to decide, in the dark of the night, that the 400 acre paddock down from the house needed to be mustered.

With three broken bones in his foot and a busted hip that needed replacing (all results of the way the cancer and the treatment were affecting his body) young Tom started up the quad and set off with three black dogs to muster that paddock.

All 51 head of cattle behaved, and did as Tom instructed. He walked back inside his home that night, a cheeky grin on his face and pleased as punch with his job well done. Brothers were in admiration while his parents were dealing with a blend of anger, concern, fear for his safety and wellbeing yet lifted by their son’s determination to live his life the way he wanted.

He inspired those he met. Lee Kernaghan considered him a friend. Tom had him on speed dial on his phone.

Paul Hogan gave him the vest he wore in Crocodile Dundee. Generous gifts given with love and genuine compassion but it could not change the diagnosis.

Perhaps the most difficult thing to witness as the disease took hold of Tom’s body was the fact that it robbed him of the things he loved most.

He couldn’t ride his motorbike or sit in the saddle. He could no longer be involved in the cattlework he loved so much. The things that kept his mind off his fate were one-by-one, slowly being taken away.

Like many cancer patients, Tom lost his hair and because of the heavy doses of chemotherapy and radiotherapy, it was unlikely to ever grow back.

The treatment had many other side effects. Sharon understood. She studied everything that was ever written about her son’s condition. She knew the doctors and medical staff well and wasn’t intimidated to ask the hard questions.

As well as his family, Tom had a lot of good mates by his side. This hasn’t been easy on them either. Kids are positive, they feel they are invincible and feel they have control over their destiny. To stand by and watch a mate struggle the way Tom did has also been a test of their own character.

When Tom left school at Year 10, there wasn’t a student at Singleton High that didn’t know about Tom.

When he was presented with his school certificate there was a standing ovation in the school hall. It was initiatives by the students and came as a surprise to the staff. Teacher and year advisor Bob Collins said he had never witnessed anything like it in his career. The kids knew the challenge it had been for Tom to gain this milestone and a round of applause just wasn’t enough.

They too felt frustrated at the fact that Tom couldn’t be Tom. Students rallied together and started what was to become Wacky Hair Day, an annual fund raiser in support of the Childrens Cancer Institute.

Mate Jacob Caban was nominated as Young Citizen of the Year in 2007 for helping the school in its fund raising effort and for being a great mate to Tom.

On stage he innocently inquired that should he win, and he didn’t think he would, did he have to make a speech.

“What can I say?” he puzzled.

“Who do I thank, do I thank my mate for having cancer?”

He wasn’t being funny, he just didn’t know why, why his mate had cancer and why no one could fix it.

Tom went to work at Kirkwoods Produce, he enjoyed the company of his workmates, the banter with the customers. The job gave him a sense of purpose and opened up a new world of friends for Tom.

The Kirkwoods and Kirkwoods Produce has had a long association with the Children’s Cancer Institute.

Marcus instigated the relationship. It was his way of trying to make something positive out of what was, many times, a hopeless situation.

The response of the community is something the family takes great support from.

Over 11 years, Singleton has contributed $385,000 to the Childrens Cancer Institute.

“That is a massive figure and the people of Singleton should take a moment and think about what a great place it is in which we live,” Marcus said this week.

“This really is a wonderful community, so many generous people who wanted to help us, to help Tom and other kids like Tom,” he said.

While this is a sad, very sad story the only way the Kirkwood family and their extended family will cope is to remember Tom for all the wonderful moments he brought to the lives of those who knew him best.

Marcus and Sharon knew their son very well.

“I think the most difficult thing to accept is that Tom didn’t know how much he was admired by others,” Marcus said.

“He didn’t have a high self esteem, he often looked at what he could no longer do and he just didn’t see himself as others saw him.”

He didn’t realise what an impact he had on people, how he inspired others by his attitude and the maturity with which he approached his fate. Such a fate would challenge those four times his age.

Oncology staff at the John Hunter Hospital became like a second family to the Kirkwoods over those eight years of Tom’s treatment.

Dr Frank Alvaro was Tom’s oncologist throughout.

On Sunday, the day before Tom died, Frank had been at a family function. Tom was in the John Hunter, trying to fight off the disease that was clearly overcoming his body.

Nursing staff insisted Sharon and Marcus take a break for a few moments away from Tom’s bedside.

Sharon said she was sitting with Marcus in the staff cafeteria just sobbing when Frank turned up.

“I really couldn’t talk, I was just sobbing and sobbing and he just said he couldn’t stay away.”

Tom was Sharon and Marcus’ son but he was Frank’s friend.

“Those doctors are just amazing, they were there for Tom but they were there for us too.”

Sharon apologised to Frank for her tears. They didn’t say anything, they just sat there for a while...the three of them.

Sharon and Marcus know the challenge ahead will be a day-by-day thing but they know they will have the support of their close-knit family, neighbours and friends and find comfort in that.

They also find strength from Tom, his strength of character, his sense of humour and his never-say-die attitude.

In Lee Kernaghan’s words “It’s just the way it is, it’s the way it goes, it’s the way of life, it’s the life I live.”