Chris Hurley

27 September, 1956 –
Mumufied 2021

Chris Hurley

By his daughter Slaine

I’ve spent the last two weeks contemplating what I could possibly say that would do justice to the immense personality and kindness of my lovely daddy and what he meant to us all.

Needless to say, there are no words that can articulate the love we have for him and he for us, who he was, a whole human existence and all of the connections and entanglements that make a life. so i’ll just say a few things that I’ve pondered when lamenting those things that now rest in the past.

Like dad’s last fathers day card said, it takes a legend to raise a legend (that’s me obviously!) and our dad has always been legendary in his own inimitable way.

Dad was also raised by a legend of sorts, an unparalleled mother who chose her conviction over convention to birth, cherish and adore her only child, in turn he passed that love and rebellious spirit on to us. Although compared to his astounding grandad skills, gus and I were a practice run!

My dad wasn’t flawless, but he was perfectly imperfect and his legacy, our inheritance resides in the memories and time he gave us. the most valuable resource each of us possess, the most precious gift one can bestow. A constant companion to mum, a dad that was always there and a grandad permanently filled with enthusiasm.

My dad’s favourite and most enduring joke is about popping out with a hammer and chisel to craft Christmas or birthday presents (he liked to adapt it for more than one occasion) oddly endearing yet slightly irritating, this memory is now a precious legacy, a family mantle to be taken up and continued, probably much to ire of my own children.

My dad had many incarnations, soldier, biker, traveller, shivite, dj, performer, commie (I tried to point out its ideological flaws to no avail) and more recently slipper wearer. He had a blue phase, a pink phase, his default was black and red, but his core being never swayed. My dad has simply always been my dad.