I HAVE seen these awful events change these wonderful people.
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As I drive past their place every day taking my children to school, I feel an awful sadness emitting from their home, a home that once radiated a wonderful inviting happiness.
I find myself glancing in my rear view mirror catching a glimpse of my own son and feel a horrible pain as I for a brief moment think what if it was my boy.
I have watched the way that this has affected this family and have a picture flash in my head of them huddled together lost in the darkness with one small flame of hope giving them light, as the awful darkness of despair, questions, rumour and speculation closes in on them, clinging to that small flame with all their strength.
I have watched as a mother, a wonderful, smiling, happy, playful person, slowly shuts down.
Every small thing that reminds her of her son is another kick she can barely take.
Simple everyday tasks like eating breakfast —as she opens the cupboard there is his favourite cereal— walking past his bedroom, seeing clothes hanging on the line, each and every one bringing back memories.
I have watched as a father, a strong, powerful man, the protector of the family has his world turned upside down, unable to fix what has happened.
For him simple things like watching a 4X4 show and fixing his truck brings back floods of memories. This man is a wonderful, kind man forced to suffer the uncertainty of his only son, his boy.
I watch as sisters suffer the pain of not having their baby brother there celebrating birthdays and the birth of another niece.
These girls, these sweet, friendly girls having their hearts shattered at such a young age.
Imagine seeing your brother or sister one day and then not knowing where they went or what happened the next.
I watch as grandparents wipe tears from their eyes trying to keep a brave face for those around them— standing tall, trying to bear all this pain on their shoulders, trying to be there for their children in this terrible moment in time.
I watch as uncles, aunts, cousins and other family and friends travel hundreds and thousands of kilometres just to be near. They have come to offer all they can to help.
Each and every one of them feeling the pain as this event ripples through their lives.
I watch as young boys, friends of Kyle’s, become men: they put their heads down, shake off their sorrow and get to work, helping in any way they can.
I watch as his workmates and boss shut down their workshop to spend all day searching scrubland for him.
I watch as complete strangers, people who have never met or even seen this family, give up their time, take time off work and use their own resources to help this family look for their boy.
None of these people deserves this and what annoys me the most is that someone has to know something.
Why a person would want to be holding any information back that could help ease this family’s pain is beyond me.
I’ll never be able to understand the pain and sorrow that these people will endure while waiting to find out exactly what has happened to their son.
This fun-loving, easy going boy who liked to get cheeky with his mum and play around, this young man who would smile from ear to ear while preparing for a trip out bush with his dad in the truck, this brother who would hold his sisters’ babies so proud, both for them becoming mothers and he becoming an uncle.
You ring me or see me in the street and ask me what I know.
Well, this is what I know, all of this stuff you have just read is what I know.
I know nothing else, I focus on the family and stand strong.
I know we want Kyle home and that is all I need to know, nothing more, nothing less for right now this is my focus.
Again, I look to my children and think what if it was me?
How would I want to be treated? Take a look at yourself and your children, nieces and nephews, brothers and sisters, any member of your family and, for just a brief moment, try to put
yourself in their shoes. Now absorb that sadness and realise that they feel like that every
waking moment of their days. So. please. I ask that if you know anything please come forward and help end this family’s pain. Let them have Kyle back so they can be a complete family again.
Let this family begin to work through their pain. — A Coleman family friend