![f100-01](https://article-imgs.scribdassets.com/5cyxvz2vggabczm9/images/fileTDTXEN9X.jpg)
My beloved late husband, Bryce Courtenay, was funny, brave, and romantic. I am certain if he could have known I was writing a memoir about his life he would have slapped both hands on his knees and said, “Good goddles caboddles!” Bryce lived each day as though it were his first, or his last. And his resilience and unfailing positivity continues to inspire me. A few days before he died on November 22, 2012, he said, “Darling, I want you to embrace the gift of life as I have.”
In many ways Bryce led parallel lives: the first one cherishing his abiding love for me, his family, our pets, gardening, and an obsession with rugby; and the second as a writer. He said, “A writer’s life is a lonely