On the eve of Friday 15 September 1999, Paula was tragically killed instantly in a car accident in the Wellington ranges, in New Zealand's capital.  She was 5 days short of turning 21, and her boyfriend Damien was about to propose to her that week.

I received the news early Saturday morning, when my mother called from New Zealand.  Obviously, like most people who have just received the news that one of their best friends had been killed, I broke down.  All weekend I felt numb, here I was in Australia, and without the support of friends or family to console me.

I hadn't seen Paula since June, when she and Damien travelled up to Rotorua for my 21st birthday, maybe this was her way of getting me to come to her 21st... 

Paula was a free spirit, she had dreams of travelling to Canada in 2000, and also wanted to move to Australia to study Marine Biology in Brisbane.  She held a great job at National Australia Bank (in New Zealand), and was adored by all that met her.  She was almost angelic in her ways - just being herself.  She had a passion for rock climbing and diving.

I first met Paula when I was about 8 years old, although we never went to school together, we participated in extracurricular activities together (29 Squadron Air Training Corp).
It wasn't really until we were about 12 that our friendship really blossomed, when (I lie, we did go to school briefly together), we were in the classes next to each other at Kaitao Intermediate School, Rotorua NZ, in 1990.  Although I was only at Kaitao for 3 months, when I transferred to Rotorua Intermediate I was placed in the class of a good friend of Paula's, Hanna Hunt.  Hanna and I got on like a house on fire, despite our differences.  It was only natural we became a trio!!

In 1992 , at 14 (and Paula who was only 13), Paula and I started running amuck, when we realised that boys weren't as yucky as we first originally thought.  One night I remember in particular (especially because my dad brought it up at my 21st birthday), Paula stayed at my house... we had arranged to meet up with our "boyfriends" at the time.  Paula was seeing David Hodgkinson, who Paula met through ATC, and I was seeing Jason Little, who I had met though Waterpolo.
Jason rode his bike from his parents place, some 8 kms away to my place, knocked on my window, and out Paula and I jumped.  
We never really had plans to do anything that night, as there were no  parties to go to, so we wandered over to David's house, and out he jumped.  
We just wandered the streets like vagabonds, laughing and joking with each other, and eventually we ended up at Otonga Primary School playground we were just fooled around, like kids do.
Eventually we tired, and thought it was about time to head back to our own homes... but on the way back down Otonga Road a car pulled up beside us, and as dad recalls I said something along the lines of "oh shit".  We'd been sprung!
Jason, had been staying in his sister's room while she had a sleepover in his sleepout, and for some reason that night his mother decided to check up on him... and it snowballed from there.
Ohh we got in the shits that night.
The following morning when Paula's parents came to collect her, we were both lectured abot out stupidity.  I know I got grounded for a month after that, and my mother tried to stop me from seeing Jason

But the thing is, we never did learn our lesson, cause over the years it actually happened more than a few times.  We'd tell our parents we were going to the movies on a Friday or Saturday night, when really we were hanging out with guys down at the Lake Front, or kicking at a video arcade.
Sneaking out from Paula's was always a bit harder, as she had high windows... she was at an advantage, standing at 5'10" (and me at 5'3"), but we always found a way.  And it was only the first time that we were ever caught!

I adored Paula, she was beautiful, gentle and friendly to everyone.  Matter of fact I still adore her, even if her form has changed.

The third day after her death, I felt a push so strong, I believe it was from her.  I had to fly back to New Zealand to attend her funeral the following day on Tuesday 19 October 1999.  I excused myself from work, popped accross the road to the travel agent, and booked myself a rather expensive (but well needed) ticket back to New Zealand that afternoon.
I think that was Paula beconning me to say goodbye.  For me, it provided closure, and for her family (whom I had grown close to over the years), it made them realise what an impact Paula had on my life.  They were greatful that I made the effort.  But then it was something I just had to do.

I was honored to be one of her pall bearers, along with her sisters Kristen and Jenny, and friends Hanna, David, Sarah & her cousin.
I think I cried all through the ceremony, but I do recall David getting up and part of the last line of his poem - something about swimming with the dolphins before she died.

Paula loved life, but God loved her more.

I believe that Paula had accomplished more than most people her age, and it was time for her to go home.  Maybe that night was not an accident, our lives are mapped out for us before we are born, and each of us has a purpose.  Paula's was to shed her radience over as many people as she could, and she did just that.  Nothing was left unfinished, except a bit of artwork - but then even the best artwork is never competed.

I think about Paula every single day, sometimes it reduces me to tears, sometimes it puts a smile on my face.  But I know she is there, watching over us.  She must be one of the most beautiful angels there possibly is.

I love you Paula.
 

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