27 November 1997, Sydney, Australia
A part of me died the other day and strangely a part of me was born, and then there is the part that will carry the memory of my brother Michael forever in my heart.
Michael and I were only two years apart when we grew up arm-in-arm. From the very beginning all the signs were there that Michael was destined to lead an extraordinary life. When he first opened his soulful eyes, he had two loving wonderful parents Patricia and Kelland from whom he inherited gentlemanly charm, accommodating nature and charisma.
With the help of our sister Tina, who played an integral part, feeding, helping, bathing, caring and being, when finally Mike came along our family was complete.
I have an early lyric book of Michael’s in which when he first started writing (and) there is a list of 10 things he wanted to achieve in his life. The first one was to conquer the world. I can’t remember what the other nine were but I’m sure he achieved them too.
Michael was a poet, a singer and a gifted performer. He touched the lives of everybody he met, even people he never met.
It hasn’t been easy being Michael’s brother, it’s strange, it’s been fantastic at times and other times the hardest, but having Michael for my brother I wouldn’t have had it any other way.
My heart goes out to Paula and beautiful, darling girl Tiger, and the other girls, to the band, to his friends and people who have known Michael and lost a tremendous friend.
Thanks to the support from friends, the love I’m receiving at the moment is helping me through this.
I cannot stress enough the importance of friendship and love in today’s times.
The other night I went and spent some time in the room, his room at the Ritz, to see if it had any answers. It seemed a sad room, it definitely wasn’t Michael.
And if Michael, who loved Oscar Wilde, would have identified with the famous poet’s last words “either this wallpaper goes or I do” then I understand.
On behalf of Michael I would like to thank my family for the love they gave him and together these words may have meaning for us all.
To mourn too long for those who we love is self-indulgent, but to honour their memory with a promise to live a little better for having known them gives purpose to their life and some reason for their death.
Rest in peace Bro. I love you. I will miss you.
Rhett also wrote and delivered a eulogy on the first anniversary of his brother's death
One year ago exactly, I was out buying some new sunglasses, and I came home to find out I’d lost my brother, I do however still have my sunnies. God works in mysterious ways.
For the first few weeks after Michael’s untimely death, one line of his many Lyrics kept playing in my head. it was from “Bitter Tears” and the line was “And I thought I was doing no wrong”.
And to be honest I don’t believe he thought he was. Or he realized the full ramifications of his actions. Not that it would have made a difference at the time.
One year, long in grief and short in time. And one where it seems some peoples grief has been manifesting in anger, the pain of loss.
In the eternal cycle of life, death, and rebirth, life is constantly presenting us with opportunities to totally let go of what encumbers us, in order for us to fully embrace life with fresh openness, and forgiveness plays a major part.
Unless we have full gratitude for those we have loved how can we expect the fragile bud of rebirth to emerge within us.
It is time to let go, time to forgive.
The past cannot be changed, remember Michael with love and joy, not misery.
We are here on the anniversary of his death. We are here to celebrate his life.
If Michael’s death was a tragedy, his life was not. And how does one sum up such a full life.
The beauty is that some of his many talents will surface forever, due to the huge legacy he left us all, in a dozen albums, hundreds of songs, and the performance of thousands of truly memorable shows, all around the globe. Sometimes I feel Michael is everywhere, literally.
Michael, the poet, the lyricist, the natural performer certainly kicked his goal of world domination.
The hardest thing for me to reconcile is the death of Michael Hutchence, the normal human being. The ordinary man with an extraordinary life.
It’s Michael, the searcher, the explorer, the healer, the big brother, the kind gentle sensitive loving man that I miss. Thank god for memories.
It hurts that I won’t hear his spoken word, even if it was rousing on me, or feel in my heart the roar of the crowd when he stepped on stage.
I truly feel proud and honoured to have known him and lucky to have spent some of the best years of my life with him, and I cherish those memories.
I would never have wanted it to turn out this way, however Michael’s death has been my rebirth. It is the least I can do for him.
How we live and how we die are less than a breath apart.
Rock on mate, I love you.
I’d like to let go with a poem
Please take a few soft breaths
As we move
From one level to the next
As in growth, or dying
We need to let go
At the edge
To continue further
Trust the process
Let go lightly
Pass on Gently