Le-Chelle Ball, 49, Sydney, NSW
Dad shot me a twinkling grin and I marvelled at him. He was an athletic, tanned 71-yearold retired World War II veteran, and I hoped I was half as fit as him at his age. Dad, Leslie Ball, was visiting me at my home in Melbourne because I’d managed to break my arm. ‘I’ll see you soon,’ he promised, kissing me that December, in 1992.
I had no idea it was our last goodbye.
Although he’d split with my mum Ett, then 58, after 20 years, I remained very close to Dad. We spoke all the time on