In September of 2014, during a technology conference in Gold Coast, I attended a breakfast that would change the course of the conference as I saw it. It was a total coincidence that I made it to a 7am breakfast given the late night the night before as conferences often are. A talk during the breakfast had already begun and there was only one seat left. I had the pleasure of sitting next to a pasty white guy who spoke funny. It was Marcus. I introduced myself and repeated my name four times and he was still unable to pronounce it, he eventually gave up and tried not to repeat my name again. I could hardly understand him due to his soft spoken nature (and funny accent) and kept having to turn my best ear to him to try to absorb what he was saying to keep the conversation going. Little did I know, that it was the start of a great friendship that was to come. We spoke for a solid two hours without a break in conversation. The best part of the conversation was that it was nothing to do with technology and more about everything else in life. The rest of the day we attended the same lectures and followed each other around. We quickly exchanged contact details and caught up on several occasions throughout the conference.
After I returned to Perth from Gold Coast (and Marcus back to Sydney), we kept in touch on a regular basis and got to know each other very well. The topics of discussion were often family and business, but anything else that mattered at the time. Marcus often called when he was on his way home on his bike at 6pm local time, while it was still 3 or 4pm in Perth. His constant disregard for disturbing me during our work hours became an ongoing joke. Even though it was breaking my concentration or meeting completely; I always took his call as our chats were always calming and it was great to hear from him. Marcus’s dry, Indian jokes often had me cringing. I know he always aspired to be a better joke teller, but we always agreed that he should stick to IT!
No one valued relationships as much as Marcus. He really cared about the people in his life and always made an effort to keep in touch with them. He called me far more than I called him and always asked in an exciting voice “How are you, man?! What’s happening buddy?”. He took the time to listen and help in any way he could, before moving on to life about himself. If there was anyone positive I knew, it was Marcus. We often had conversations about how stress was never worth it in life, no matter what we were going through. Marcus had a great influence in my life with business, family, and just life in general. I admired his patience when it came to kids – it didn’t matter how hard it got with the kids, his tone of voice always remained calm. His calm demeanour made me think about mine and I often modelled it when it came to talking with the kids. It was his ‘no TV at home’ that made me sell mine 3 years ago. His process of decision making in business helped me many times in mine.
On 25 February 2020, it was another day in Perth for me as my kids woke me with big smiles and hugs in bed. I walked into work energised and ready for the day. As I settled into work, I called Marcus to wish him well for his birthday and as usual making jokes about how it feels to be hitting the big five-o, knowing full well that he had just turned 47. As I hung up I said, I am buying him a voucher for Ashley and Martin hair studio to help with his receding hairline. I also said that I would call him back after I finished work. Unfortunately, I did not realise it was the last time I would ever speak to Marcus. Six days later I received a call from his wife to say he was in hospital after his brain haemorrhaged out of the blue while he was at a café with a friend. He had gone into a coma. Marcus died on 10 March 2020 and the world lost a beautiful human being. Marcus was a great friend, patient father, and absolutely dedicated and loving husband. It was an honour being a friend to such a gentle, caring, and genuine person. The world will never be the same without your passionate words again. You will be sorely missed, my friend.
