I found this site quite by accident, actually my kids found it. I knew Michael about 21 years ago for a period of six years I think. I was heavy into my studies and he was heavy into his music and making the mark with INXS that helped to push Australian music well into the international arena. We had something in common. Whilst MMA managed INXS it was Michael Murphy (deceased) who managed my mother during her fledgling opera career in the 1960s. I believe Michael Murphy started the agency.
I openly admired Michael and people who saw us together thought that the admiration was mutual. I can say that I loved Michael very much but I had to keep my distance to save being hurt and he respected me a great deal for that. He thought I was beautiful and intelligent and we shared a lot of quiet moments just talking when we ran into each other. I will never forget his sincere gentility with me and how he whispered things into my ear whilst he was telling me some silly joke he had just picked up and then in the next sentence start a conversation about something political or philosophical that bothered him. He had a craze with the word “antithesis” when he was 22 years old. He was a very normal young man with a combination of personalities including those that were silly, sexy, searching and bewildered. I still laugh about it because he had a lisp and he struggled a bit to say the word “antithesis” to me in a whisper.
When all the drama accelerated in his life I wanted to reach out to him and tell him to come home to Australia where there were people who loved him. But as I was dealing with the grief of my first husband's death I had alienated myself from everybody and I will never forgive myself for not pushing myself back into his life and make him get the help and rest his mind needed. I know he had professional help but he needed people who just saw Michael the man, human being and sensitive artist. Michael fighting with the press was not the Michael that I knew. That was a very stressed Michael.
It took me four years to listen to his last solo album. A gift from my children. In our hearts Michael is still very much alive and will be as long as we all remember him.
His memorial in Epping is across the road from where my husband is buried. The two of them weren't too fond of each other but both were possessive of their friends.
I hope Tiger Lily has people around her who can explain to her what really happened when she asks. Her Dad was a remarkable man who bit off more than he could chew. Having a medical education I have no doubt in my mind just what really happened to him and sometimes I despaired for him. I couldn't stop crying when he died. I cried for him and I cried for me. Suicide makes those of us left behind feel so helpless. Sometimes he comes to me in a dream when I am asleep and tells me he is fine. It frightened me at first but if that is him reaching across the afterlife, if there is one, to me then I am happy he has found peace. But if that is me coming to terms with his death than I am also happy with that too. It was very hard to grieve for him with all the adverse press that went on. People snarling. It nevers ceases to amaze me how cruel people can be when something tragic does not happen to them. Michael's death happened to me and I had to go on regardless, in the end I just didn't read the papers and turned off the news mentioning him. It was very hard for me so I can't even begin to imagine what it was like for his closest friends, family and Paula. Poor Paula. But every year on the 22nd November I wear black for two reasons one: in remembrance of him and two: because he looked so good in black and he liked me in black too. Funny how stupid little things can become so important in the final analysis.
After all that there is nothing left to say except rest in peace beautiful boy.
I openly admired Michael and people who saw us together thought that the admiration was mutual. I can say that I loved Michael very much but I had to keep my distance to save being hurt and he respected me a great deal for that. He thought I was beautiful and intelligent and we shared a lot of quiet moments just talking when we ran into each other. I will never forget his sincere gentility with me and how he whispered things into my ear whilst he was telling me some silly joke he had just picked up and then in the next sentence start a conversation about something political or philosophical that bothered him. He had a craze with the word “antithesis” when he was 22 years old. He was a very normal young man with a combination of personalities including those that were silly, sexy, searching and bewildered. I still laugh about it because he had a lisp and he struggled a bit to say the word “antithesis” to me in a whisper.
When all the drama accelerated in his life I wanted to reach out to him and tell him to come home to Australia where there were people who loved him. But as I was dealing with the grief of my first husband's death I had alienated myself from everybody and I will never forgive myself for not pushing myself back into his life and make him get the help and rest his mind needed. I know he had professional help but he needed people who just saw Michael the man, human being and sensitive artist. Michael fighting with the press was not the Michael that I knew. That was a very stressed Michael.
It took me four years to listen to his last solo album. A gift from my children. In our hearts Michael is still very much alive and will be as long as we all remember him.
His memorial in Epping is across the road from where my husband is buried. The two of them weren't too fond of each other but both were possessive of their friends.
I hope Tiger Lily has people around her who can explain to her what really happened when she asks. Her Dad was a remarkable man who bit off more than he could chew. Having a medical education I have no doubt in my mind just what really happened to him and sometimes I despaired for him. I couldn't stop crying when he died. I cried for him and I cried for me. Suicide makes those of us left behind feel so helpless. Sometimes he comes to me in a dream when I am asleep and tells me he is fine. It frightened me at first but if that is him reaching across the afterlife, if there is one, to me then I am happy he has found peace. But if that is me coming to terms with his death than I am also happy with that too. It was very hard to grieve for him with all the adverse press that went on. People snarling. It nevers ceases to amaze me how cruel people can be when something tragic does not happen to them. Michael's death happened to me and I had to go on regardless, in the end I just didn't read the papers and turned off the news mentioning him. It was very hard for me so I can't even begin to imagine what it was like for his closest friends, family and Paula. Poor Paula. But every year on the 22nd November I wear black for two reasons one: in remembrance of him and two: because he looked so good in black and he liked me in black too. Funny how stupid little things can become so important in the final analysis.
After all that there is nothing left to say except rest in peace beautiful boy.