For days, Spencer Millear could not touch the sports bag languishing in the back seat of his ute. Bringing it inside the house meant conceding the biggest tragedy of his life had actually taken place. And that thought was utterly unbearable.
Inside were the belongings of his 17-year-old son, Edward, a larger-than-life character with an infectious giggle who died in hospital after collapsing while training with his school’s rowing team in a boat shed by the Yarra River last month.
Friends carry Edward Millear’s coffin out of the church as his parents, Spencer and Dimity, and sister Eleanor watch.Credit: Jason South
“It just felt like I was closing something off, I was sort of conceding something or letting something go,” Spencer said.
“Ed was a good mate, and he was a good son. He was inquisitive. He was smart about what was going on around him. He just knew stuff … Ed had wisdom and kindness beyond his years and a way with people that endeared him to them. Everyone loved Eddy.”
On Thursday afternoon, as hundreds of mourners gathered within the bluestone walls of Toorak’s St John’s Anglican Church to farewell the teenager, it was the everyday things, the things that made Edward everyone’s best friend, in which his loved ones found the most solace.
There was the time he had been voted “legend of the day” at his year 10 school camp just about every second night by his peers, prompting the powers-that-be to step in to prevent him from being nominated again – to give others a chance.
“On the last day of camp, we had to vote on ‘legend of the trip’, and as you can guess, we all chose Eddy,” his friend Max told mourners.
Edward Millear’s mother Dimity and sister Eleanor. Credit: Jason South
Or the many occasions he had led his cricket team to victory, tricking his opponents into thinking he was going to send down a gentle spinner only to deliver a Jeff Thomson-worthy screamer to clean bowl them. He would often come in at number seven or eight when a match-winning knock was needed. His characteristic axe-handle grip on the bat as if he had just “chopped two tons of firewood” would also become iconic.
Mother Dimity recalled the time Edward told her he needed a haircut only to come home rocking a mullet, shaved sides and all. Eddy, as most called him, was her beautiful son. The youngest of her three children, and in her own words “a gift, an angel”.
“I’m going to miss saying to him, ‘two hands on the wheel’, which I would repeat at least 20 times while we were out driving together, getting his hours up. And saying, ‘Can you pick up your size 15 shoes from the front door?’ He would take them off as soon as he walked in,” she recalled.
“I’m going to miss him reading his year 12 poetry book to me on the beach, which he was struggling to read over the summer, in Barwon Heads. I said, ‘Read them out loud to me. It might be easier’. He read five poems. Beautifully.”
Schoolmates formed a guard of honour as Edward Millear began the journey to his final resting place.Credit: Jason South
As the bells tolled to mark 2pm, a group of Edward’s friends walked down the purple, carpeted aisle of the church, carrying two rowing oars on their shoulders. Edward, an avid rower and rugby player, had been training with Melbourne Grammar School’s rowing VIII and was planning to compete in the Australian Henley Regatta the week he died. Dozens of schoolmates dressed in the Melbourne Grammar School uniform filled the back pews of the church, where one of Edward’s ancestors was the first vicar in the 1800s.
Friends, family and Edward’s former cricket coach shared their fondest memories of the teenager from the altar before a slideshow of photos showing key moments of his life was beamed on a large screen to the sounds of Die With a Smile by Bruno Mars and Lady Gaga, and Don’t Dream It’s Over by Crowded House.
As the service came to an end, Edward’s friends carried the coffin to a black Rolls-Royce hearse, forming a guard of honour on either side of Clendon Road for the 17-year-old’s final journey to his resting place. Edward’s parents and siblings huddled together, tears streaming down their faces, as they trailed behind the hearse carrying white roses.
“What happened two weeks ago at training was a phone call no parent should ever receive. We’re still baffled about why it happened … To lose a child is the worst thing anyone can ever experience,” his mother told the congregation.
“I look forward to the day I can turn it around and cope by thinking how lucky we were to have Eddy in our lives for 17 years.”
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