The year started with the loss of cricket club stalwart Chris Dodd, followed soon by my father, later by my mother's favourite cousin John and her elder sister Norma, the last of that generation save for John's sister June who had her own stint in hospital. Bill, Norman and June were/are all 88. Only recently I learnt that Joan's good friend from Perth, Kathy Howlett, who we had stayed with at the time of Ricci's death, had also died during the year.

Losing Chris Wheeler and Alby in just over a year will leave quite a hole in the hard eyes on the boundary which have provided immeasurable value in the inescapably important task of keeping the senior team competitive. Looking around the crowd today, especially the members of Alby's 1970 Under 17 premiership team who had clearly not forgotten, there are clearly others of quality to help carry the traditions forward. Wally and Alby were also direct links back to the role the football club's long serving early secretary Alf Pearce played in bringing in and fully engaging good people, a tradition which has continued across generations, especially the successful targeting of parents who brought experience from many places when their kids joined their local club.

Of all my memories of the Murdoch's, none comes quicker than the junior presentation day when Glenn and Craig went missing at Hanging Rock, that other most sacred of places. After Craig's heartfelt eulogy, John Birt faced up to the challenge of saying more than Alby ever would about his days with the Bombers, an era when every name brought back memories of my own days following my late uncle's team long before the more intimate involvement of Strathmore won me over.

In the wash up from my mother's funeral one of my dearest friends from cheer squad days, Wendy O'Regan nee Bosaid, was able to track me down and we again talked for hours on the phone to the Gold Coast where she had followed the Bombers from ever since her family moved there way back when. Late last month I received an email to her address list informing us that Wendy too had died way too young.

No doubt the toll of old friends passing each year is longer than that, but the connection network wears thin and you often don't get to hear of any but the closest or most prominent. I still get reminders or people who have not yet been told of my mother's death now 32 months ago.