Yesterday we said our last goodbyes to an extraordinary man who in his short 51 years touched the hearts, minds and souls of everyone who came to know him.

To me, Kym was a childhood buddy, my very first real friend (not including family and neighbours), having met when I was five years old and just starting primary school.

I remember sleep-overs at his parents’ home set amid the family vineyard in the little town of Rowland Flat.

I remember playing hide and seek among the vines or in one of the sheds full of strange agricultural equipment.

I remember the little creek which ran past the back of his home, catching tadpoles, falling in the water and Kym’s mum giving me a dry set of his clothes to wear.

Whatever game I suggested Kym was up for and he had as many challenging games of his own including us launching off the tractor shed wearing batman suits to see who could fly the farthest.

Our lives took different directions for many years, but in the last few years I am so grateful we connected once again.

People will remember and miss Kym for many reasons. Some for his gorgeous Barossa wines, some for his love of hot-rods, some for his infectious and irreverent larrikinism and some because he had secured a special place in their hearts.

I will remember Kym as my mischievous boyhood friend from a time in our lives when we had not a care in the world, no clue about what we wanted to do and all of life was in front of us for the taking.

All of us will miss you.

Cruise on Kym Jenke, 1964-2016 and beyond …