‘I’m with you, mate’: Days after Rob’s son drowned, so too did Adrian’s daughter

Rob Maniscalco, 44, lost his 15-year-old son, Lachie, in an accident last year. Days later, 10-year-old Tegan – daughter to Adrian Chen, 49 – died in similar circumstances. Introduced by a friend, the pair have formed a deep bond.

“We felt an instant connection. I’ve never hugged anyone for so long I’ve known for so short a time,” says Rob Maniscalco (right) of his first meeting with Adrian Chen.Credit: Louie Douvis

Rob: Lachie died on January 14, 2024, in a drowning accident in Yamba [on the NSW North Coast] while he was on holiday with some close family friends. Eleven days later, Adrian and his family were at a national park in New Zealand when Tegan drowned. Our families didn’t know each other, but a mutual friend suggested we meet – to be around other people who knew what we were going through.

Adrian and Deb visited us – me and my wife, Liz – at our home a week after Tegan’s funeral. They stayed for about five hours. We were all in the same state of shock and horror and there were a lot of tears. Adrian wanted to hear about our family and our story; he was a great listener and very patient with us while we talked about Lachie. We felt an instant connection. I’ve never hugged anyone for so long I’ve known for so short a time.

We started catching up weekly as couples after that and, quickly, Adrian and I formed this close relationship. If we didn’t speak for a couple of days, I’d get a message from him checking in to see how I was doing. After seeing him, I felt energised – uplifted even.

We’d meet for yum cha in Rhodes [in Sydney] and would just sit and talk until the restaurant kicked us out; we didn’t even notice the staff impatiently side-eyeing us. It was as if the whole world disappeared. We could talk freely about our kids, laughing about things they’d said or done, about the people they were becoming. Every time, I’d walk away feeling liberated and at peace; I’d been heard by him.

‘To have Adrian, who’s going through the same experience at the same time, is just a blessing. I have someone I can trust.’

Rob Maniscalco

I was raised Catholic and have questioned my faith over the years, but have now become very spiritual. Adrian’s background is also Christian, but he’s a rationalist. I’ve started seeing signs.

Lachie loved golf – it was his sport. I’ll say, “Lachie, I need a sign,” then trip over a golf ball walking through the park. Sometimes, when Adrian’s talking about Tegan, I can feel her in the room with us. I hesitated to bring this up with him but, when I did, he just said, “Rob, I want to hear from her. If you can feel her energy, tell me.” I know a lot of people think this stuff is woo-woo, but he’s open to hearing what I have to say, despite being a very practical thinker.

Don’t get me wrong: it’s a battle. I cry every day. But when I’m struggling, the first thing I think is, “I’ve got to call Adrian.” Friends I’ve had for 30 years are devastated for us, of course, but they don’t truly understand. To have Adrian, who’s going through the same experience at the same time, is just a blessing. I have someone I can trust. I’ll tell him how I’m feeling about certain things and he says, “I understand. I’m with you, mate.” I see him as a brother and, as time goes on, I only feel more comfortable around him. He’ll always be in my life.

Rob with son Lachie; Adrian and daughter Tegan.

Adrian: When Rob and Liz opened the door the first time we went to their house, they already had tears in their eyes. I remember my heart breaking, even though my heart was already broken, as I could see the heaviness on them. They could probably see it on us, too. We started calling each other and would go out for these epic lunches or to the cemetery in North Ryde where Tegan and Lachie are buried.

My daughter fell into some water rapids at Fiordland National Park [NZ]. I was there; I tried so hard to save her and, a couple of times, I almost did. I carried a lot of guilt about not having been able to rescue her, which was making it difficult to go to the cemetery and come face-to-face with where her body is.

‘I think we both felt as if we could sit and chat forever, even outside the grief and loss.’

Adrian Chen

Having Rob there, I could relax a bit. He’d reassure me, as another father, that I’d done everything I could. Because we’ve seen each other at our most vulnerable, we’ve bonded a lot more quickly than most friends do, I think, and in a very intimate way. And I think we both felt as if we could sit and chat forever, even outside the grief and loss – about what we’re reading, say, or our lives when we were younger. Our wives call it a “bromance”.

Rob is Italian and able to express his emotions more freely than I can; I bottle things up. If I’m upset, he expresses it when I just can’t. One Sunday morning, I was playing basketball with my mates and saw a young girl practising with her dad. I wanted to scream, but I couldn’t; I was numb from having to protect myself from the storm of negative emotions – sadness, regret, the frustration of “Why us?”

Later, on the phone, I told Rob about how it had brought up memories of the times I played basketball with Tegan and I could hear him breaking down in tears on the other end. Sometimes, I’ll say to him, “I don’t need to cry; you’re crying enough for me!”

It’s hard but also healing that the relationships we’ve each been left with as fathers is the reverse of what we’ve each lost [Rob lost a son but has a daughter; Adrian lost a daughter but has two sons]. The father-daughter relationship is very special and having had that ripped away has left a big hole. Family holidays are hard now because my wife’s siblings have daughters; when we go away, the girls are climbing all over their dads and I’m sitting in the pool by myself.

With Rob, it’s different, maybe because he didn’t know Tegan when she was alive, so I don’t have those associations of us all being together. And Rob is always very sensitive to me. His daughter loves horse-riding and Tegan did, too, so he asked if I’d prefer he didn’t send me videos of her riding, but I had no problem with that. With Rob, it’s like, “Hey, you can have that father-daughter relationship for me.”

I’ve found a kind of hope in our friendship, which comes from having someone to walk with me through this battlefield. Imagine carrying a load up a mountain, and it gets heavier and heavier as you go, but when you’re halfway up, you meet someone, and suddenly, they’re carrying it with you. It’s never going to go away, but with Rob, the load’s lighter.

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