John Leslie David “Johnny” O'Mara 30 November 1936 – 9 July 2024

O'MARA John Leslie David "Johnny" Left us on Tuesday July 9, 2024; aged 87. Loved husband of Elizabeth (dec.). Cherished companion to Philomena. Much loved and respected father of Peter, Raymond, Barry, Margaret and John & their families. Loving grandfather and friend. Will be dearly missed by all of us.

I've been coming inside, looking for you. You're not sitting in your chair.

You are dearly missed, Poppy. You were the best person Dylan and I ever had in our lives. You were always so happy and cheerful! I’m so proud to have had such an amazing grandfather like you; I couldn't have asked for anyone better! You'll always be in my heart, and I miss you so very much. I cherish the memories of when Dylan and I were younger, and you taught us how to play chess and those mornings we woke up to freshly made pancakes. You're the best and always will be! I love you, Poppy. I still remember the time Dylan and I thought you were sleeping because you were snoring. We snuck into your room very quietly, crawling under your bed without making a sound, and all of a sudden, you would say, "Oi, get out of here before I wallop you." Dylan and I would race out, laughing and wondering how you knew we were there. We were so quiet! Pop and I used to paint together, and that's something I'll cherish for the rest of my life. There are so many more memories, and they all hold a special place in my heart. ❤❤❤

THE STORY OF THE DRAGONFLY From the book "Tales to grow and heal" by Michel Dufour "At the bottom of an old pond lived a group of larvae that did not understand why when any of them ascended through the long lily stalks to the surface of the water, they never descended again where they were. They promised each other that the next of them who would rise to the surface, would return to tell the others what had happened to him. Shortly after, one of these larvae felt an irresistible desire to ascend to the surface. He began to walk upwards through one of the thin vertical stems and when he was finally outside he began to rest on a lily leaf. Then she experienced a magnificent transformation that turned her into a beautiful dragonfly with beautiful wings. He tried to keep his promise, but it was in vain. Flying from one end of the pond to the other, she could see her friends in the background. Then he understood that even if they in turn had been able to see her, they would never have recognized one of their companions in this radiant creature. The fact that after that transformation that we call death, we cannot see our friends or family, or communicate with them, does not mean that they have ceased to exist... They are not here, they went to another place to take care of us from there with a different view. "Death is nothing more than a change of mission."

I know we didnt see each other often pop, But I'm glad we reconnected so you could meet your great-grandchildren & they could meet my pop. One of my memory's I have from a child, was when I was fishing with Dylan off the Geelong peer. You came to pic us up because you had things to do, But I was so determined to catch a sized pinky I wouldn't leave. Only now I'm older I can appreciate your patience you had with me. I'll never forget the last words you said to me. "Keep doing what your doing mate" Smooth sailing up there, we'll meet again soon love ya mate

Memories of John From Di, John’s younger sister A story I was told many years ago involved both John and his Uncle Alan. They were near enough the same age, and they were both very taken with the air raid tunnels that were being dug at Hampton State School. This was of course during World War Two. However when they proceeded to dig up the ground to make tunnels in the horse paddock in Bluff Rd Sandringham, well, that was another matter altogether, and they paid for it! Horses and air raid tunnels definitely don’t mix! A salutary lesson was learnt by the two young boys that day. As a thirteen year old my brother John was determined to go to sea. It got to the point where he was going with or without his father’s blessing. So Dad signed the papers to say that John was fourteen years old and could leave school. His first boat was the Argonaut that did the coastal trade. With his first pay he bought himself a leather coat and then found he had no money for the rest of the week! But one stormy night coming through The Heads into Port Phillip Bay the Argonaut lost its rudder and headed helplessly towards the rocks. Luckily the boat and all aboard were saved. My grandfather was scathing in his remarks, his generation of the O’Mara clan had lost three members by drowning whilst fishing. “ I told you Jack, I told you. No-one from the O’Maras goes to sea”. The wash from the Ozone ferry from Williamstown accounted for two members of the family. John had another narrow escape in 1955 when the River Burnett hit a rock near Mornington and ran aground and sank off Frankston. All the crew were rescued but it was touch and go for a while. We all remember the times when John turned up after these events, in shock, shivering and shaking. Many years later I moved to Sydney but came back frequently to visit family and friends. Dear memories for me were the times that John took me on sight-seeing trips, around the Bellarine Peninsula, the Brisbane Ranges to name two standout occasions. And he knew the history as well. Places I had never been to before. The Geelong Maritime Museum was another of his favourites until its closure Memories of John From Di, John’s younger sister A story I was told many years ago involved both John and his Uncle Alan. They were near enough the same age, and they were both very taken with the air raid tunnels that were being dug at Hampton State School. This was of course during World War Two. However when they proceeded to dig up the ground to make tunnels in the horse paddock in Bluff Rd Sandringham, well, that was another matter altogether, and they paid for it! Horses and air raid tunnels definitely don’t mix! A salutary lesson was learnt by the two young boys that day. As a thirteen year old my brother John was determined to go to sea. It got to the point where he was going with or without his father’s blessing. So Dad signed the papers to say that John was fourteen years old and could leave school. His first boat was the Argonaut that did the coastal trade. With his first pay he bought himself a leather coat and then found he had no money for the rest of the week! But one stormy night coming through The Heads into Port Phillip Bay the Argonaut lost its rudder and headed helplessly towards the rocks. Luckily the boat and all aboard were saved. My grandfather was scathing in his remarks, his generation of the O’Mara clan had lost three members by drowning whilst fishing. “ I told you Jack, I told you. No-one from the O’Maras goes to sea”. The wash from the Ozone ferry from Williamstown accounted for two members of the family. John had another narrow escape in 1955 when the River Burnett hit a rock near Mornington and ran aground and sank off Frankston. All the crew were rescued but it was touch and go for a while. We all remember the times when John turned up after these events, in shock, shivering and shaking. Many years later I moved to Sydney but came back frequently to visit family and friends. Dear memories for me were the times that John took me on sight-seeing trips, around the Bellarine Peninsula, the Brisbane Ranges to name two standout occasions. And he knew the history as well. Places I had never been to before. The Geelong Maritime Museum was another of his favourites until its closure

Our deepest condolence to the family of John O'Mara and our dear sister Rosalind McBryde. Remembering you with fondness in our hearts and our prayers are with the family. May his soul rest in peace and let perpetual light shine upon you.