I was going to write about something happy, and maybe even a little inspiring, today but then yesterday happened. Yesterday, like everyone else in my state and, indeed, in most parts of Australia, I woke up to the news that Phil Walsh, the coach of my AFL (Australian Football League) team the Crows, had been murdered. Like everyone else, at first I thought it was an horrendously bad practical joke. It wasn’t.

Then we heard that his son had been the one who wielded the knife. How could this happen? we ask ourselves. What could drive a son to do this to his dad? Rumours are spreading like wildfire. After all, my city is still small enough to have small town reactions to these things. Everyone feels as though they know the victim (the price of having a high profile) and everyone feels as though they are part of the drama. Everyone thinks they’re smart enough to know. However, at this stage the police are not offering any theories and they’re the ones in the thick of things, so I’m going to wait to hear what they have to say.

People are calling this a case of Domestic Violence, because it happened in the family home. However, I hesitate to call it that.
To me, DV conjures a scenario of consistent abuse by one spouse on another – usually a man abusing his wife, but occasionally a wife abusing a man – or the consistent abuse of children, or a combination of those things. I’m holding judgement on the Walsh case until all the facts are in. So far, what we have is a case of patricide:  the killing of a parent. It may even yet be manslaughter, not murder. We don’t know.

What we do know is that the death of this man has affected a plethora of people across our nation. He came from a large family (one of 7 children). He was involved as a player in three different clubs in two different states, and then as a coach in four other clubs in three different states. He was a coach for both of the two AFL teams in my city, so all the football public in this football-obsessed state feel as though they’ve lost a mate. Rival teams are united in their grief and shock. In our footy-mad culture, that’s a minor miracle right there.

Meanwhile my thoughts and prayers are with his wife, lying injured and shocked in hospital; his daughter flying home from an overseas holiday having lost a dad and overwhelmed by her brother’s actions, and his son, now facing a lifetime of living with the knowledge that in his anger he has killed his father. The wider family also need our prayers: Phil’s siblings, his wife’s siblings, aunties, uncles, cousins… And, the football team need our prayers: young men who looked up to Phil as a father figure and are now bereft of his wisdom, encouragement and leadership.

It’s a sad time in my town right now and in many other places across our  nation. Yes, there are many cases of domestic violence on a regular basis, and we should be doing all we can to eradicate that. This case, if it is one, doesn’t overshadow those. Yes, around the world, there are thousands of people dying horrendous deaths every day, and each life lost is a terrible tragedy. But, right now, Phil Walsh has been killed, his family torn apart and, because of his high profile, the grief, the sense of loss, is felt in homes across the nation.

What can we learn from this?
1. Life is precious, fragile and too quickly gone, so treasure each moment.
2. We all need to keep a better balance in our life: work is not as important as family; people are more precious than things.
3. Let’s all be kinder to each other.  Just because a person is successful and seems to have a great life, doesn’t mean they’re not struggling with some sort of personal, private difficulty.
4. No one is perfect.