#BigFella40 | A huge life

To celebrate what would have been Jarrod Lyle’s 40^th birthday, Challenge and the PGA have asked Jarrod’s family, friends, colleagues, and the infinite people he influenced, to share their favourite stories of the affable Tour Professional.

Grief can be a cunning bastard. It’s such a constant, persistent beast that so many people have the misfortune of having to live with. The hardest part by far is that it never goes away. It’s a life sentence. Sometimes it’s quiet and fades to the background, but other times it comes to the forefront and becomes deafening. 

For me, August is the time of year when my grief is the loudest.

It’s not just grief about Jarrod’s loss that affects me the most these days, it’s grieving all the things he’s missing out on. Of course there are the obvious things like birthdays and Christmas, but it’s the smaller, in-between parts of life that are hard because they are not big ‘events’. Most of the time it’s the ‘firsts’ for his girls, things that are not on anyone else’s radar. First time riding a bike without training wheels. First time learning to whistle. First time scoring a goal in netball. First time skipping bars on the monkey bars. First time going on a plane. First time losing a tooth. First time swimming from one end of the pool to the other. First time seeing snow. 

The list is endless and the significance of these events will only increase as we move into secondary school and beyond.

It doesn’t matter how many years it has been since Jarrod died, there are always more firsts for him to miss out on. 

Every time one of these ‘firsts’ happens, I always have the same thought: it’s not fair. None of it is fair.

That was one thing that Jarrod never said, no matter what he was dealing with, but I have no problem saying it.

I know my girls feel it as well. Often they are the ones who remind me that daddy’s not here to share in their achievements and we have to try and guess what he would have said.

Another thing about grief is that it changes over time. More and more I find that my grief is slightly less about myself and more about Jarrod – what his life must really have been like, and what he must have been feeling at certain times.

I’m not talking about his life on the surface, but how it must have felt to be the person living such a rollercoaster. What it must have felt like to be told he had cancer. Not only once, but three times.

What it felt like to play on the US Tour for the first time, knowing what he’d overcome.

What he must have been feeling to leave his newborn daughter to begin cancer treatment.

What he was feeling, both physically and mentally, after playing all four rounds at the 2013 Australian Masters. And what he must truly have been feeling, deep in his soul, to make the decision to end treatment and go home to die, even though he had so much to live for.

Despite the tidal wave of emotions that comes with trying to understand things from Jarrod’s perspective, one thing stands out to me every time – he lived a huge life.

It was definitely an action-packed ride with never a dull moment, and I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t have changed any of it. 

For anyone who knows me, it comes as no surprise to hear that I didn’t share Jarrod’s passion for golf. It’s by far one of the most frustrating sports on the planet, with some of the most ridiculous rules and traditions.

But I am eternally grateful that Jarrod was part of the golf world. In his very short life, golf gave him the opportunity to travel to some amazing places, meet people from all walks of life, and experience some of the highest of highs.

It’s a world that I’m now well and truly entrenched in, both personally and professionally, and the irony is not lost on me.

I can also say with certainty that, for the time being at least, I wouldn’t have it any other way. 

I always knew Jarrod was special and that I was lucky to call him my husband, but I love knowing that he was so significant in the lives of many other people.

The stories that have been shared this week by people who knew him so well paint a pretty incredible picture of a truly unique individual.

I don’t think I’ll ever really understand how one person could use so many swear words to endear himself to everyone around him! 

I know for sure that Jarrod’s spirit lives on in our girls, but it also continues to live in the world of golf. And it’s not going away any time soon. 

To find out more about Jarrod’s ongoing legacy as part of Challenge – supporting kids with cancer, head to challenge.org.au/jarrods-gift/

Briony Lyle is the widow of Jarrod and continues to work at Challenge and grow Jarrod’s legacy through Jarrod’s Gift and #DoingItForJarrod golf days.