Neale Daniher’s wife and daughter paid emotional tributes to the AFL great and motor neurone disease advocate during his state funeral at the Melbourne Cricket Ground.
Jan Daniher told mourners she and her husband first met at a family friend’s 21st birthday celebration and remained together throughout more than four decades of marriage.
“Our first date was a lunch in a dark old pub on Swanston Street that had a very limited menu of sausages, lamb’s fry, and chips,” she said.
“I’m fairly sure this was Neale’s way of checking, just to see how down to earth I was. I must have passed the test.”
Jan said they married in 1985 and spent 41 years together.
MND diagnosis changed family life
Speaking at the service, Jan recalled the period when Daniher was general manager of football operations at the West Coast Eagles, describing it as a time when “life was full, we were busy and things were going well”.
She said it was during that period that he first noticed weakness in his hand before later being diagnosed with motor neurone disease (MND).
“Being told there is no treatment, no cure, and that the life expectancy is around 27 months. It’s devastating and it was almost impossible to believe, but Neale took on the challenge,” she said.
Jan said the family faced the illness together.
“There were moments of joy and sadness, fear and love, strength and determination. It wasn’t easy. It was incredibly difficult, but we faced each challenge together, and we never gave up.”
She said Daniher was fortunate to meet all six of his grandchildren and stressed that MND did not define him.
“Neale is defined by his character, his integrity, his humility, his honesty, his strength, and resilience, by his sharp wit, his cheeky smile, his love of family and friends, and his wonderful love of laughter.”
“This is how we will remember Neale. I love you, darling.”
Daughter remembers resilience and humour
Daniher’s daughter Lauren reflected on her father’s determination throughout his illness, telling mourners he never complained despite the progression of MND.
“You got up each day and focused on what you could do, and you made the most of every single moment.”
“Even when his body was failing, his mind was still fighting on right to the very end.”
Lauren said she would miss seeing her father smile as she walked through the front door and recalled his sense of humour during difficult times.
“I will miss the look of annoyance when I misunderstood what you were trying to communicate, and if you’re wondering what that look is, just Google a picture of Dad from his coaching days.”
“I will miss that cheeky grin you would have on your face while you typed a smartarse comment, and I will miss the wink you would give us when we sorted what you needed.”
She ended her tribute with a message to her father.
“We will play on for you, Dad. I love you.”