Renae, 32, shares her real life story:
My heart raced as I watched my mate Ash tinkering under the bonnet of my car.
Every now and then, he’d glance up at me and smile and I felt myself go weak at the knees.
Stop it, Renae, I told myself.
My brother Richard had introduced me to him.
I was in a relationship and had three girls, Tayesah, Kaylah and Trinity, but Ash and I hit it off as mates.
He was a real dag who always cracked me up with his jokes.
One day, I found out his life hadn’t always been fun and games.
“It was pretty rough when I was 18 and had a melanoma cut from my back,” he said. “But I’m right as rain now.”
Nothing got him down. I admired his optimism.
Not long afterwards, my relationship ended and now here was Ash kindly fixing my car.
I caught myself staring at him while he worked.
Each time he looked up at me with his enchanting eyes, butterflies swirled in my stomach.
It wasn’t long before we were dating.
He was incredible with the girls, spoiling them with trips to Maccas and buying them new clothes.
They adored him, too, and when they started calling him ‘Dad’, it brought tears to his eyes.
Soon after, I fell pregnant with a girl. Ash was stoked.
Me and Ash.
He’d recently set up his own concreting business and it was doing well.
It seemed like a good time to add to the family.
After he picked me up from my baby shower, he took me aside.
“Will you marry me?” he asked, dropping to his knees and producing a ring.
“Of course,” I gushed excitedly. “But not until after I’ve had the baby. I want to be able to fit into a beautiful dress.”
“I don’t care when we do it, so long as we get married under a big tree,” he said.
But only months after giving birth to Hannah, I fell pregnant again.
“I guess the tree can wait another year,” Ash grinned.
Just after having our son, Jai, our happiness took a turn for the worst when Ash discovered a dark lump on his chest.
“It’s just a pimple,” he insisted. “It’ll go away.”
But it didn’t.
My heart lurched remembering Ash had had melanoma before.
“Go to a doctor – now,” I urged him.
I cried when we learnt it was a malignant melanoma and needed to be removed immediately.
After the op, he had to go through gruelling radiation.
Ash was still strong and continued practising kung fu and tai chi.
I was worried sick, but Ash told me off when he saw me looking worried.
“Everything’s gonna be fine,” he insisted.
I wanted to believe him so badly.
He was still receiving treatment when I fell pregnant again.
“You two will never make it down the aisle!” our friends teased.
“We’ll get there one day,” I promised.
But then, during a check-up, doctors discovered Ash’s melanoma had spread through his neck and lungs.
I froze to the spot in fear.
The moment Ash proposed to me.
Doctors spoke about putting Ash on a new trial drug to stop it from reaching any further, along with removing the lymph nodes in his neck.
“Babe, you’ve got to be positive,” Ash said, noticing my tears. “It’s going to be okay.”
While he was in hospital having the staples removed from his neck, I was in the labour ward having our second boy, Jacob, who’d arrived six weeks early.
He managed to get out of bed and into the NICU to meet his little son.
For the next four months we focussed on raising Jacob until it was time for Ash’s next check-up.
“I’m sorry,” the doctor began. “There aren’t any further treatments for us to try.”
Numb with shock, I listened to the doctor explain that Ash might only have a matter of months, or even days left.
We’d planned to get married in just under a year at our favourite park.
After all those years waiting, this was just too cruel.
Ash was certain he’d make it there.
But one day, Tayesah, 12, told me he’d taken her aside.
“He said I’ll have to help you with the others soon,” she said fearfully.
It broke my heart.
It was bittersweet when we discovered I was pregnant with another boy.
Ash was delighted, but all I could do was worry he might never meet his son.
“Of course I will,” he grinned. And not only that, but we’ll marry under that tree.”
But months passed and as my belly grew, Ash became thin and frail.
He started accepting what was happening by planning for the future.
Sitting down with a phone, he recorded videos for our kids and the unborn baby we’d decided to call Maximus.
“This is your daddy,” Ash said in message to Maximus. “I want you to know I’ll always be in your heart, no matter where you are.”
Now the wedding was only a few months away.
I wouldn’t be able to fit into a normal dress, but there was no other choice.
Ash was being looked after in a hospice. He was too weak to walk, so used a wheelchair to get around.
Me, Ash and the kids.
His mate Michael popped into see him and then drove to my house.
“Renae, if you’re going to get married, it has to be now,” he said gently.
Ash was fading. Michael said he thought there might only be four or so hours left.
Michael knew a celebrant who dropped everything to get there, while both our parents and sisters and immediate family hurried over.
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As I rushed around trying to get myself and the kids ready, my heart was soaring with emotions – elation that I was about to marry the love of my life and devastation about the direction our lives had taken.
Michael set up the garden with decorations in the hospice and rallied our families round.
When Ash came out in his wheelchair, he smiled at our makeshift altar under a mahogany tree.
Walking out of Ash’s room, I followed the concrete footpath down to Ash, who was sitting under a tree while our favourite song, ‘Time Of My Life’ from Dirty Dancing played on a nephew’s phone.
It was now or never.
I blinked back tears as I took my groom’s hand.
“You’re beautiful,” Ash trembled.
He could only stand briefly to kiss me before sitting back in his chair.
Finally, we were pronounced husband and wife as the kids clapped and cheered.
It was the most bittersweet moment of my life.
Three days later, I was sitting by Ash’s side, holding his hand when I watched his chest rise and fall for the very last time.
The second he took his final breath, my heart broke into a million tiny pieces.
“Goodbye, my love,” I wept.
I was shattered with grief but at five months pregnant and with six devastated kids to look after, I could only let myself crumble for a second.
Now, we’re busy counting down the days until little Maximus comes along.
I can’t wait to tell him all about his amazing dad.
I’m so grateful for every second I spent with Ash.
I’ll always cherish his memory in my heart and to this day, it still makes me go weak at the knees.
